The Tales of the Third Brother
by Merrick Mayfair
Summary: By popular request - when Harry arrives in One Hand One Heart he decides to stick around. The stories of a Midgardian wizard in the Court of Asgard. Series of One Shots, part of the ever expanding Keeping the Stars Apart series. Harry's POV. Features Loki / Hermione, Thor / Jane and Harry / Sif
1. Chapter 1

_When I wrote the Keeping the Stars Apart stories the plan was that Harry would only have an occasional cameo. However, it appeared that Mr Potter had other ideas, and who was I - a humble writer – to argue with him. Following his initial appearance in "One Hand One Heart" I received a couple of requests for more on Harry's side of things. This won't be a story per se, but another set of one shots that I will add to on an ad hoc basis. Enjoy..._

 _As always, I have no rights over Marvel's or JKR's characters and I am doing this solely for my own (and hopefully your) enjoyment..._

* * *

Lunch At the Weasleys _for NorseFan1. The story takes place between the end of "Friends and Family" and the end of "Written in Stars" in the "One Hand One Heart" series of stories._

The morning that Hermione and Loki were due to move to Asgard, Harry met up with them for breakfast in the Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle. He had spent the previous day very pleasantly, carefully avoiding Hermione's manic packing regime, choosing instead to catch up with his many old friends around the school. This had started with tea and rock cakes with Hagrid, and ended with a riotous dinner at the Three Broomsticks with Neville, Loki, Draco and Charlie. The concept of a Stag Night was new to Loki, but he had no objections to honouring the finer points of Midgardian culture. They had all lurched back to the castle rather the worse for wear and far later than either the Headmistress or Hermione would have approved of.

The following morning, feeling slightly fragile, Harry joined the Headmistress, Hermione and Loki for their final breakfast in the Great Hall, Loki was quite relaxed, and irritatingly free of hangover, but Hermione was twitchy and stressed, constantly checking and double checking lists of things that still needed doing.

"Potions equipment, potions equipment...check that all the books are back to the library. Check I haven't left anything in the infirmary..." Harry smiled, he had seen this a hundred times - before exams, ends of year, beginnings of term, before they went Horcrux hunting... Hermione and her lists had been a feature of his life since he was 11.

"Is she always like this?" Loki looked a little concerned. "Because it isn't that I mind exactly, I'm just worried that she won't survive until sunset. She might just explode in a puff of lists and stress."

Harry gave a snort of laughter, then turned it into a coughing fit as Hermione turned to glare suspiciously at them.

"Are you going to be here all day Harry?" The next line was clearly – because if so I have a job for you...

Fortunately Harry had his alibi ready. "Sorry Hermione, I'm afraid I have another engagement. I'm due at the Weasley's for Sunday lunch. I will be back in time to help you to move your boxes to – wherever it is they need to go. How do we get to Asgard anyway? Do they send a spaceship or something?"

Hermione looked up from her list long enough to chuckle. "No Harry, you won't be needing a space suit today. If you apparate to the Weasleys, you'll notice a large circular area just outside the gates. That's where the Bifrost lands. It's like a cross between the Floo and apparition. Probably best not to travel on a very full stomach." She pulled a face. "Please don't send my regards to dear Molly will you, she isn't my favourite person at the moment."

Harry looked puzzled, Loki scowled. "I got a howler from her two weeks ago, apparently she disapproves of my choice of husband. He is, and I quote "a dreadful man" and "a war criminal" and she even had the nerve to invoke Fred, Remus and Tonks in an attempt to make me feel guilty. Not that she was the only one. Hogwarts had hundreds of howlers for me that day, but I did expect Molly to have a little faith, maybe to want to meet him rather than just believe everything she reads in the bloody Prophet. So hang on to your hat Harry, you may have a bumpy ride today. I hope Molly's Sunday lunch is worth it..."

ooo0ooo

Maybe coming to the Weasley's after a heavy night out wasn't the best idea he'd ever had, thought Harry ruefully. He was sitting under a tree in their garden, having decided rather abruptly that he needed some air.

The visit had begun so well. He had spent an hour ensconced in the big friendly kitchen, drinking tea with Molly, Arthur, Bill and George. It had felt – comfortable – easy. Like coming home. Lunch had been every bit as amazing as he had remembered Molly's Sunday lunches being, and afterwards they had all taken their cups of tea into the sitting room. Sinking happily into a Sunday afternoon food coma, his nagging headache slowly receding, Harry had been just about to nod off...

…It had all been going so well until Molly brought up Hermione's wedding. And more specifically her intended husband.

Now here he was, sitting under an apple tree, in the Weasley's garden, watching the Gnomes, waiting for the blood to stop pounding in his ears – and for his head to just stop pounding.

"Care to talk about it..." Bill Weasley dropped his long form down onto the grass beside him with a grace that reminded Harry strangely of Loki.

"Not really Bill, to be honest." Harry bit the words off, more irritably than normal, he had always got on very well with Bill Weasley.

Silently Bill reached into his pocket, and handed him a small bottle labelled _Headache Potion._ Harry looked at him sheepishly. "That obvious huh?"

It's the big move today isn't it? When I spoke to Charlie the other day he said you were going to give this bloke a bit of a stag do. Doesn't take a genius to work out you're feeling a bit under the weather when you put Mum in her place like that.

Harry sighed, his headache magically retreating. "I don't like disagreeing with your Mum and Dad, you know that Bill. God knows, they've been the nearest thing I've ever had to parents, and I think of all of you as family. But Hermione – she's like my sister you know. And I just keep remembering her face at breakfast this morning, when she found out I was coming here. She was so hurt by your Mum's howler."

Bill's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Mum sent _Hermione_ a howler?"

Harry nodded. "Called Loki all sorts of names, said Hermione was "a stupid girl" and then went on to invoke Fred, Remus and Tonks in an effort to make her feel guilty. You can imagine how THAT went down."

Bill closed his eyes. Shaking his head. "I can imagine mate. Not pretty. Go on..."

"You remember all of that crap that the Prophet wrote about me during the war. Called me all sorts of things, mad, criminal, liar, compulsive attention seeker. That Dumbledore and I lied about Voldemort coming back and all sorts. So when your Mum read that piece in the Prophet about Hermione and Loki, did she contact Hermione, find out the whole story – even invite them over for lunch? Hell, she could even have contacted Charlie, he knows Loki well enough these days. No. She takes everything she reads in the Daily Rag as gospel, and lays into Hermione."

Harry took a moment to get his breath. Describing his feelings towards Hermione's husband to be wasn't an easy thing to put into words. "And Loki. He's a decent bloke you know. Although the fact that people keep assuming he's my brother is beginning to wear a bit thin"

"What?"

Harry smiled. "Didn't you see the pictures? It's even more noticeable now I don't have my glasses. And he just feels so... familiar. Like, the first time I met him..." He looked sideways at Bill, wondering if he was about to make an idiot of himself. "... it was like – my magic – recognised his. I don't know how else to describe it."

Bill looked uncomfortable. "Could he be?"

"What?"

"Your brother?"

Harry laughed. "Family maybe. But brother. No, Dad wasn't that old. Unless there's something that I haven't been told." Seeing Bill's puzzled expression, he frowned. "You don't know do you? About Loki"

Bill shook his head. "Other than the fact that his Mum and Dad were obviously Norse mythology nuts. He doesn't have a brother called Thor does he?"

Harry closed his eyes. This was going to be interesting.

"Um Bill. I'm sorry. I thought Charlie would've told you. The whole Norse Gods thing. It's real" Bill looked at him blankly. "They're not gods – exactly. Our ancestors just thought they were. And Asgard – where the gods were supposed to live. That's real too, only it's not like Heaven or something. It's another world – another planet I suppose. The Asgardians, aren't gods as we think of gods, but some of them have powers, and they live a long time, a very long time. Like 5000 odd years long time."

Bill frowned, trying to process what he'd just heard. "So this bloke that Hermione's marrying is really an alien. The Prophet got that bit right. And when you said that your Dad's not that old..."

Harry took a deep breath and laid it on the table. "He was born in 900 and something AD. And Bill – he IS Loki. THE Loki. So yes. He does indeed have a brother called Thor..."

"Wait a minute Harry. Are you telling me that Hermione – OUR Hermione is marrying the Norse God of Mischief and LIES? I have to say I'm not sure I approve either."

Harry sighed. "I'm making a mess of this. I need to tell the whole story."

Bill stood up, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Stay here. You might as well tell it once."

He returned a few minutes later with his parents. George had gone back to the shop after lunch. And sitting there, under the trees in the Weasley's garden, Harry told the them the story that he'd been told by Hermione that evening in the coffee shop. When he told them about Loki's fall from the bridge, his torture at the hands of Thanos and how it led him to New York, Molly put her hands over her face. When she heard about the cave and the serpent she had to take a moment to compose herself. By the time Harry finished the story, she was crying.

"Harry – I have been a very foolish old woman and I need to put this right. Do you think she would s-see me before she leaves?"

 _ooo0ooo_

The time had finally come. Loki and Hermione walked slowly across the lawns and down the path to the gate. They knew that several of the staff would be there to say goodbye, even though they would be seeing many of them at the wedding. Hermione had expected to feel worried, or even fidgety and excited, instead she was very calm and peaceful. Her conversations with Firenze had always had a that effect on her.

Harry was waiting just inside the gates. "Hermione, Loki. There's someone here to see you..."

And out of the shadows, stepped a very uncomfortable looking Molly Weasley.

Hermione's face hardened, shooting a furious glare at Harry.

"Hermione – before you say any of the things that I really really deserve, can I just say that I'm so sorry. I've been talking to Bill, and Harry this afternoon, and you're quite right. I should have just spoken to you – invited you to bring your young man for dinner, not just let rip like that. I KNOW that half of what's in that rag is rubbish – I don't know what I was thinking." Hermione's face was giving nothing away. Molly's voice wavered, but she soldiered on determinedly...

I just – well – that is. I know you won't want to forgive me now. But maybe, sometime in the future, when you come back – you CAN come back can't you?" Hermione nodded stiffly. "Perhaps when you come back, you and your – husband – would like to come for dinner – so we can get to know him properly."

Molly turned to Loki. "And I owe you an apology too young man. I know our Hermione, she's a clever sensible girl, and if she's chosen you – well – I should have trusted that rather than the rubbish they print in that paper, and I'm sorry for the hurt that I caused you both, and the names I called you in that message. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair, and I'm sorry."

Seeing them both, still silent, her courage faltered. "Well, thank you for listening, I know you had no reason to... I'll be going now." She turned to walk away.

"Molly" Hermione took a step after her. Molly turned. "We'd like that – to come for dinner I mean. We've got two weddings this summer in Asgard, ours and Loki's brother's. But maybe when that's all out of the way, in September?"

Molly's face brightened. "Just send me an owl dear. Or if you can't owl from – there – just turn up. You know me, I always cook too much. Arthur's always telling me... And Hermione. Good luck, to you both. You'll make a very handsome couple...Have a lovely day won't you. And you young man – you take good care of our girl. They only made one of her and she's one in a million."

* * *

 _I know that this particular story is really more about Molly and Hermione than Harry, but it seemed to fit better into this story than into One Hand One Heart. Plus, if I'd kept introducing extra stories into OHOH I'd never have got Hermione and Loki married... Next story - "Arrival in Asgard"_

 _Merrick x_


	2. Chapter 2

_The response to the first of these stories was really good. Thank you to everyone that is following them, and especially to those lovely people that have reviewed - love hugs and triple chocolate muffins to you xx_

 _To the guest reviewer that was confused as to where Charlie Weasley fits in... It is mentioned in several places through the KTSA stories, (although it's not a big plot point)that Charlie Weasley is in a serious relationship with Draco Malfoy, who is a Professor at Hogwarts. So although Charlie isn't a Professor himself, he does spend a lot of time at Hogwarts. With Draco and Hermione being friends, it stands to reason that Charlie would know Loki - at least socially. If you've already read "One Hand One Heart" you may remember that they will both be guests at the wedding._

 _As always, reviews make a very happy Merrick, and I have no claim on either Marvel or JKR's characters._

* * *

Arrival in Asgard _The rest of these stories are for thephoenixandthedragon4ever who wanted to know more about what Harry gets up to in Asgard..._

Harry hadn't really stopped to think about where he was going until the Bifrost burned into the ground in front of him. Hadn't stopped to think about the vast distance of space that he was about to cross, in little more than a beam of light. Seeing him hesitate, his face going pale, Hermione smiled, and leaving Loki's side, she tucked her hand into his.

"Relax Harry, it takes a little longer than apparition, but it's much easier on the stomach" She reached up to whisper in his ear, "Professor McGonagall will be doing this in two week's time. Are you going to be outdone by a witch of her age...?"

Harry took a deep breath, and guiltily conscious of his death-grip on his friend's hand, allowed Hermione to lead him after Loki into the light.

 _oooXooo_

"Welcome to Asgard,Harry Potter, Lady Hermione. Welcome back Your Highness." As Harry lurched out of the Bifrost, he was glad of Loki's hand on his elbow to steady him. The Asgardian's green eyes were bright with amusement at Harry's discomfiture..

Harry looked up at Heimdall's imposing figure and resisted the temptation to gulp nervously, uncomfortably aware that he was gaping like a fool. Hermione laughed. "Get it together Harry! Heimdall, this is my greatest and oldest friend, Harry Potter. Harry, can I introduce you to Heimdall, Gatekeeper of Asgard, and Watcher of the Nine Realms."

Harry looked up, seeing the expression on Heimdall's face as the amber eyes flicked from Harry to Loki and back again and sighed. He looked over his shoulder. "We're going to get a lot of this aren't we..."

Loki laughed. "You think this is bad – just wait unti – ah, here they are."

Harry couldn't helping a pang of nerves as the sound of horses hooves was heard from outside, and within moments, an imposing blonde figure came hurrying through the entrance. Behind him, two women followed at a slightly more sedate pace, which was fortunate, as they only narrowly avoided cannoning into the back of the man in scarlet and gold, who was staring at Loki and Harry as if he'd seen a ghost.

When it became apparent that his brother was temporarily bereft of speech, Loki huffed and stepped forward. "Harry, allow me to present my Mother, Frigga, Dowager Queen of Asgard, my brother Thor, King and Allfather of the Nine Realms, and his betrothed the Lady Jane Foster who is also of Midgard – sorry Earth. Mother, Thor, Jane, this is Hermione's very good friend Harry Potter. And yes, the likeness is remarkable, now can we please get past this because it's beginning to wear a little thin."

Frigga stepped neatly past her sons to greet Harry warmly. "Welcome to Asgard Harry, we are so pleased that you were able to arrive with Loki and Hermione, it will be wonderful to have you spend some time with us."

Remembering his dignity, if not his manners, Thor gripped Harry's arm in greeting, before ushering Jane forward. Frigga looked around.

"Have you done your usual trick with your possessions Loki?"

Her son laughed. "Not this time mother, Heimdall brought them up an hour or so ago."

Heimdall nodded. "Indeed My Lord. They should be at the palace by now."

"Enough of this" Frigga smiled ushering them toward the bridge. "We need to get Harry settled in. You ride don't you Harry?"

Harry was eyeing the iron grey gelding that the groom was holding for him with some trepidation. "I ride a broomstick like a man possessed, I've ridden hippogriffs, thestrals, a motorbike, a surfboard, and on one particularly memorable occasion, a white dragon. But one of those things. Never."

"Relax Harry" laughed Hermione, mounting her usual roan mare with enviable ease. "Compared to a broomstick it's going to be a piece of cake..."

"...And if you do fall off" finished Loki "it's nowhere near so far to fall"

Harry scowled and shook his head. "You two are adorable – now you're finishing each other's sentences. He looked up at the saddle, which seemed a long way up. "Do I need a levitation charm do you think."

"If I can help Sir."

Harry turned to see the burly red haired man that had previously been holding Hermione's horse. "I'm Dalan Sir. Captain of the Palace Guard. Never mind them Sir. We all have to learn at some point." Quietly and calmly he talked Harry through the process of mounting, adjusted stirrups and girth and rode beside Harry for a few minutes until he looked less uncomfortable.

"You're a natural Sir. You've got good balance and coordination. We could make a horseman _and_ a swordsman out of you in no time"

Harry turned to him – eyes bright. "A swordsman – you'd teach me?"

Thor laughed. "Be sure you know what you are letting yourself in for young Harry. I warn you – he is a hard taskmaster"

 _oooXooo_

 _Thor wasn't joking_ groaned Harry the following day, as he sank into the huge tub in his chambers. He admitted it – he'd been completely taken in by the bluff quietly spoken Captain of the Guard.

Captain of the Guard...

That should have warned him shouldn't it? You don't get to be in charge of the King of Asgard's personal army by being a pussy cat do you? This guy was Snape, Moody and his first instructor with the Aurors all rolled into one.

And no private lessons either. The fact that every warrior in Asgard from Thor downward had gone through the same horrors when they were still kids meant that they were all only too happy to hang around and watch this cocky Midgardian (he supposed it sounded better than Earthling which was waay too Flash Gordon for his liking) get seven shades knocked out of him.

Never mind. It seemed Dalan had been pleased with the progress he was making, and Thor had clapped him on the shoulder on the way out of the training grounds. Once he had the basics. Loki had assured him, he would share some of the Eastern fighting style favoured by him and Frigga. He was also to learn archery at some point. But tomorrow was to be another riding lesson. This time with Loki, which Harry was really looking forward to. They were to take the horses out all morning. The afternoon – advised Loki with a smile – would be needed to recover.

Harry wondered vaguely what that was about.

Hermione had promised to come to get him for supper, but right now, as he hauled his weary body out of the cooling water, a snooze on that extremely comfortable bed, seemed like a really good idea.

* * *

Next time - Training a Warrior (Part One)


	3. Chapter 3

_The response to this story has been fantastic - thank you all so much. There will be lots of "brotherly bonding" moments coming up in the next few stories._

 _Just to clarify. The title refers partly to the Beadle the Bard story - the third brother being the one most associated with Harry, and to Harry's increasingly close relationship with Loki and Thor. I do need to stress that Harry is not going to turn out to be Loki's brother. The issue of their precise relationship is resolved in "Of Oaths and Promises"_

 _I am still unable to access my readership stats, so if you're reading this and enjoying it - PLEASE drop me a line and say hello._

 _Merrick x_

* * *

The next morning, when Harry came down to breakfast, Loki took one look at his jeans, and laughed. "Oh no Brother – I think we need to find you something else to wear.

Harry frowned, flustered. "I'm sorry, are they considered inappropriate? I didn't mean to offend anyone. I'm sure I must have something else – maybe I could transfigure them into..."

Hermione's voice cut into his rambling. "Harry – there's no problem with your wearing jeans. Jane and I both wear them sometimes – and even Loki and Thor have been seen in them occasionally. The problem is that no matter what you see in cowboy movies, jeans are not the best thing to learn to ride in – unless you want to be walking like John Wayne for the next few days." Seeing he was still confused she whispered in his ear "the seams rub something awful! And in some very uncomfortable places."

Harry looked at her frowning – then flushed as the light dawned. "Ah!"

Loki chuckled and rescued him. "Harry, come and eat. When you are finished we will find you something of mine you can wear for the time being – any difference in size is nothing a little magic cannot put right."

Taking a seat to Hermione's left Harry surveyed the spread before him. "Gosh, it's like being at Hogwarts again. Is that _coffee?_ I didn't think you'd have it on Asgard"

Behind him, he heard a deep chuckle as Asgard's King joined the conversation. "We Aesir like to imagine ourselves as the superior race, but none that have visited Midgard have escaped an abiding love for your coffee." He frowned. "How have the kitchen acquired it though? For certain it has never been on the table at breakfast before."

Hermione grinned. "Now that's a question _I_ can answer. I have set up a deal with the Hogwarts House Elves. Kreacher will send up a delivery once a month with the post. Jane and I had a chat with the kitchens yesterday. All we had to do was figure the easiest way to make it and make sure it stays hot. In the end I took my little cafetiere – added a little magic _et voila!_ The essentials of life in Asgard. Some things I am just not prepared to do without. Loki too if it comes to that. He is _seriously_ grumpy until he's had at least two cups in the morning..."

Thor smiled. "Hermione – have I told you how very glad I am that you're marrying my brother?"

 _ooo0ooo_

Riding looked an awful lot easier when other people did it.

Loki could have been centaur, Harry thought irritably. Smooth, graceful and entirely at one with his mount. He on the other hand was bouncing around like a sack of potatoes. The only mercy was that they were out of the city, and there was no one else to witness his humiliation.

"Harry, wait. Slow down."

Even that was easier said than done, thought Harry, almost shooting straight over his horse's shoulder as it slowed sharply. He couldn't see, but he suspected the look of long suffering martyrdom currently all over his poor mount's face.

Loki studied him carefully. "I think I've worked out where you're going wrong."

"I hope so" groaned Harry. "Because my backside is killing me!"

Loki laughed. "You're trying too hard. Don't anticipate the horse's movements, just relax, sit deep into the saddle, and allow the horse's movement to move you." He took Harry through walk, trot, canter but wouldn't let him go any faster. "Galloping is great fun, but you have to be able to stay on and control your horse before you can gallop..."

"Spoilsport..."

When they had been out for a couple of hours, when Harry's backside was numb, and his legs starting to cramp, Loki called a break. Harry slid ungracefully from his mount and stood for a moment, clinging to the saddle – waiting for the strength to return to his legs. Loki clapped him on the shoulder. Harry winced. Loki looked concerned.

"Are you alright? Riding isn't supposed to hurt your shoulders. Not unless you have a mount that pulls a lot, which yours doesn't"

Harry tried to roll out the stiffness. "That's not the riding – that's Dalan yesterday. Either that or I'm getting old"

The two friends sat, their backs against a tree, looking over the city, enjoying the summer sunshine. From out of his saddle bags, Loki retrieved ale, bread, cheese and apples. Harry was relieved, in spite of his good breakfast, the fresh air had made him hungry.

"Thank you" Harry bit appreciatively into an apple – then looked at it suspiciously. "Hermione said something to me about your apples."

Loki smiled. "You are thinking of Iddun's apples. Trust me Harry, we don't take those on picnics. Sometimes an apple is - just an apple."

"So Iddun's apples are real - they're the ones that will make Hermione immortal?"

"Not immortal. But she will have the same long lifespan as any of the Aesir. Around five thousand years. It will slow her aging process, obviously, but it will also make her stronger, heal faster, and may even enhance her magic."

"Blimey" muttered Harry. "So I guess you don't give these things away often?"

Loki shook his head. "No. In Odin's day they were hardly ever given to non-Aesir. Even now they cannot be given to outsiders without permission from the Allfather. He's giving two away this summer. One to Hermione and one to Jane when they marry at the end of the summer. Now that will be an enormous full dress affair in the Great Hall. There'll be dignitaries swarming in droves from all over the Nine Realms and beyond."

"So how come you two only get a small private wedding in the garden?"

Loki smiled at his partisan scowl. "Because it is what we wanted my friend. My behaviour over the last few years means that anyone coming on a "state" visit for our wedding will only be there to see what chaos I am going to cause. Thank you but no. And Hermione is of exactly the same mind. We were offered the big state wedding. We were even offered a double wedding with Thor and Jane. It took us all of - oh - two seconds to say no."

For some time the two friends were quiet together, munching on bread and cheese, and enjoying the peace and the sunshine, while their horses cropped the grass.

Loki looked sideways at the dark haired man beside him. "Hermione tells me that you were raised by your aunt and uncle – that your parents died when you were still a babe? And that they – were not kind to you. That must have been hard?"

Harry shrugged. "It was. The hardest thing was knowing – well, believing that there must be something wrong with me."

Loki's eyes sparked in recognition.. "Go on..."

"My uncle and aunt adored my cousin Dudley – a hulking great bully, although he's not so bad now, and spoiled him rotten. I was the runt – a freak." Loki winced sympathetically. "It wasn't until I was eleven, and I got my Hogwarts letter that everything started to make sense. That was when everything changed. Before that I never understood what I had done that was so wrong – that my aunt and uncle could love Dudley so much and loath the very sight of me."

"Did you ever find out why?"

"Magic"

"What?"

"Magic. My aunt hated the fact that my mother was the special one. She called her a freak. When she grew up she married a man who had an obsessive hatred of everything that wasn't "normal". They thought they could bully the "freakishness" out of me."

Loki shook his head. "And I thought I had a tough time of it. At least I was always close to mother; I mean Thor, was irritating, and I loathed being the skinny runt with his nose in a book – but Thor himself always loved me – even when I didn't deserve it." He was silent for a moment, then shook himself. "The less said about my father the better."

The warmth was starting to make Harry sleepy. Seeing him nodding Loki hauled him to his feet, groaning at the pull of stiffening muscles. Still gripping his arm Harry smiled sadly. "I had ten years of it Loki, you had a thousand. I think that evens things out. Come on. You might have to give me a boost back up, all my muscles seem to have stopped working."

Loki boosted him into the saddle with disconcerting ease. "Take it easy this afternoon, remember. You're going to be sore. In fact if you carry on like this you'll be in the Healing Rooms before the wedding, you need to slow down a bit. Are you with Dalan again tomorrow." Harry nodded. "Then we'll have an easy day the day after. Thor may well have need of me, but Hermione will show you the city. Don't let her go without an escort though. Even if it's only Volstagg. Sif and Fandral would be better, but they're sorting out a land dispute in Vanaheim for Thor. They are under instruction to be back for the wedding though. Now come on, let's see if you can finally canter without sliding all over the saddle..."

Harry was thinking. "Volstagg is the big guy yes? The only one that can out-eat your brother. Have I met Sif and Fandral?"

"No, they left before we arrived. Fandral is amusing and excessively charming. The ladies love him, and he loves them. Hogun know as "the grim" for reasons that will be self evident when you eventually meet him is the third member of their company, but he is at home - also on Vanaheim - on extended leave at the moment"

"And Sif?"

Loki paused. His face shuttered.

"Sif and I don't see eye to eye. Truth to tell I don't think we ever have."

"Childhood rivals?"

"Sif was always jealous of my place at Thor's right hand - and even more so when I returned. That I should do all that I had done, yet still be welcomed back with open arms. And now I am to be happily married, and have my place formally acknowledged at my brother's side. This only serves to rub salt into already open wounds. Like Odin, Sif does not approve of marriage with mortals, particularly for one such as Thor."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It amazes me that it doesn't matter where I go some things never change. In my world - the magical world I mean - we went to war over the marriage of magical and non-magical, of pure blood and muggle born. In the muggle world, the marriage between those of different religions and races has been a source of dissent for centuries. I suppose I had hoped that the Asgardians had evolved past this issue."

"To a certain extent this is true. And there is something to be said for marriage within ones own kind. But Hermione has a saying that the heart wants what the heart wants, and love does not always come from the most expected sources. And beside, a community that refuses to look outside its own walls will swiftly become stale and insular."

Loki broke off - giving a most un-royal air-punch, and shooting Harry a triumphant grin. "YES"

Harry looked puzzled. "What?"

"You've been cantering without any problems for the last five minutes - and you didn't even realise."

* * *

 _Next - wedding bells in the air..._


	4. Chapter 4

_Well, here we are, back to The Wedding again, only this time we get to see an awful lot more of what went on behind the scenes. This is the first of a two-shot, part two later this week._

 _Many thanks to everyone that has supported this story. Unfortunately I still can't get access to my reader stats - in spite of countless emails to FFN - so I have to hope that you're still out there and still reading. With that in mind I'm going to once again shamelessly beg for you to make use of that useful little box at the bottom of the page - even if it's only to say hello._

 _Enjoy - Merrick x_

* * *

 _Wedding Bells - Part One:_

Harry was woken by a small thunderstorm taking place outside his room. At least that's what it appeared to be, until it resolved itself into the King of Asgard banging on his door. Harry buried his head in the pillows, whimpering in agony.

"HARRY POTTER"

"HARRY MY FRIEND ARE YOU AWAKE"

"I am now" Harry peered around the door groggily. The discomfort of his hangover following Loki's Hogwarts stag night paled into miserable and cowering insignificance before the utter agonising, gut wrenching misery that followed a night of pre-wedding carousing with Thor, Volstagg, Dalan – Loki of course, and half a dozen others whose names he was feeling far too ill to remember. As if to add insult to injury Thor was looking as bright eyed and bushy tailed as one that had gone to eight hours sleep on nothing stronger than a nice mug of cocoa.

"Come – my friend – you must wake and dress. The day is nearly half over already, and it is my brother's wedding day." It gradually dawned on Thor that Harry may not have been as enthusiastic as he was. "Are you well Harry?"

"Thor" Harry whispered "I had enough of your Asgardian ale last night to float an armada. I finally crawled into bed about four hours ago, and right now it feels as though my brain is trying to crawl its way out of my ears – and you _really_ don't want to know what my stomach is doing at this moment..."

Thor looked puzzled. Then the light dawned. "Ah. I am sorry my friend – I forgot. The Lady Lucilla bade me give you these." From his pocket he retrieved two small vials, one labelled _Hangover Potion_ and the second _Headache Potion._

Harry looked at him – momentarily bereft of speech – and took the potions.

"Give me half an hour."

Then he shut the bedroom door in the King of Asgard's face.

 _ooo0ooo_

Harry crawled down to the Great Hall twenty minutes later, mercifully free of headache and nausea but still horrendously tired. He consoled himself with the thought that he might be able to curl up somewhere quiet – and hopefully Thor-free – that afternoon to ensure that he didn't fall asleep halfway through the evening. He was greeted in the doorway of the Hall by Frigga, who smiled knowingly, putting a hand on Harry's arm.

"Good morning Harry, how are you feeling this morning?"

Harry shook his head weakly. "Remind me, the next time I get invited to an Asgardian Stag Party to stay in and wash my hair." When Frigga looked confused, he smiled. "Sorry, Midgardian expression... it's a bad excuse for backing out of a party."

Frigga nodded, chuckling. "Breakfast is long over, but I suspected there might be a few late risers this morning. You'll find food on the side table. If you ring the bell the kitchens will bring you coffee."

"Frigga, you're the best." Without thinking Harry kissed her on the cheek and followed the siren call of coffee. Shaking her head the Dowager Queen of Asgard left the survivors to their breakfast and went to check with the kitchen that all was in hand for tonight's celebrations.

When breakfast was over, and even Harry had drowned his cobwebs in the kitchen's excellent coffee, Thor broached his plans for the rest of the day, which seemed to consist of more ale, and several hours in the training ground.

Loki took one look at Harry's face and took pity on him. "I'm sorry Thor, but I have to steal Harry for the rest of the morning. I require his advice on a crucial matter pertaining to this evening's celebration. Harry, are you up for a trip into the city?"

Thor looked a little disappointed, but shrugged ruefully. "As you wish brother. I will see you at lunch, after which I believe we have a number of guests arriving via the Bifrost, and we need to find young Harry here something to wear – or are you planning to wear Midgardian garb?"

Harry shrugged. "I had brought my best robes for the occasion, but I wouldn't say no to Asgardian clothes. Would I need to wear armour?"

Loki shook his head. "For Thor's wedding later this summer we will have to find you full dress armour, but this evening we will not be so formal. Thor will be wearing his armour – I believe he would sleep in it if Jane would permit it but I will be wearing a coat and trousers, I'm sure we could find you something suitable."

Harry smiled his gratitude. "Speaking of weddings, have you seen Hermione yet?"

Loki looked surprised and laughed. "Such a thing is not permitted. Hermione will probably not even be awake yet. She will be woken in time for lunch, then will spend the afternoon in preparation. It is considered to be a bad omen for the bridegroom to see the bride before the wedding." He rose from the table. "Come Harry, or we will not be back in time for our lunch. Brother – enjoy your training. Please try not to injure yourself or anyone else. It would be most unfortunate if you were to attend tonight with a black eye or broken limbs.

 _ooo0ooo_

The two friends walked down through the stables and out into the city, pausing to say hello to Dalan, and to visit Krellr, Loki's favourite chestnut, who whickered impatiently as soon as he saw Loki walk around the corner.

"I am sorry my friend," Loki rubbed under Krellr's forelock affectionately "we go on foot today, and tomorrow I will have other considerations, but I promise that we will go out for a gallop very soon. Reaching into a pocket he produced a twist of sugar purloined from the breakfast table as a treat before they left."

Leaving the stables they walked over a bridge and through the gates into the city. Harry had been before, but was still fascinated by the variety of goods on sale in the shops and stalls.

"So what are we actually out for? Or is this just a ploy to get us both out of the training yard?"

Loki laughed. "No my friend. Although that isn't such a bad idea. But we have a very important errand this morning. I have a gift to collect, a very special gift..."

Harry's eyes slid sideways, taking in the spring in Loki's step, the brightness in his face "Would this be a wedding gift by any chance?"

"Precisely Harry. Gyan is the finest goldsmith in the Nine Realms, and he has been working on a special commission for me. A commission we are going to collect, and YOU are going to deliver for me."

"Me?"

"Of course Brother. You cannot be suggesting that _I_ should deliver them myself are you – that would be most improper..."

After about twenty minutes the two men turned right into a small side street. Loki knocked on the door of an unobtrusive house, which was opened by a neat woman that appeared to be in her late fifties who curtsied deeply.

"Prince Loki, you are most welcome, Gyan is expecting you." She bobbed a curtsy to Harry as she ushered him into a cool paneled hallway. "Can I offer you some refreshment gentlemen?"

"No thank you Magda" despite her age, the warmth of Loki's smile made the woman blush, and chuckle.

"Of course My Lord, you will be in a hurry to return to your bride." She put a tentative hand on his arm. "May I be so bold as to wish you all the happiness in the world for your marriage. It is so good to have you back among us."

"Bless you Magda. If I am half as fortunate in my wife as Gyan, I will consider myself happy far beyond my dues." He bent to kiss Magda on the cheek, and her blush deepened further.

"Get away with you Sir. Gyan is in his workshop. Would you like me to announce you?"

"No, he is expecting me, and you have far more important things to do than run around after me. I apologise I have been most remiss. Magda, may I present a dear friend of mine Harry Potter of Midgard. Harry, this is Magda, Gyan's wife."

Magda's eyes were wide. "Of Midgard. Goodness Sir. I have never met a Midgardian before. Welcome to the House of the Goldsmiths, any friend of Prince Loki's will always be welcome here."

Harry bowed gravely over her hand. "My thanks Mistress Magda, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Loki led The way up a narrow staircase to a low door under the eaves. Seeing Harry's expression, Loki paused his hand raised to knock. "What is it Harry?"

Harry smiled. "I was just remembering something my Godfather said to me once. That to know what a man truly is, you should take a look how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."

Loki shook his head. "Harry, if I live to be as old as the stars themselves, I will never consider myself better than Gyan and Magda, who are two of the best people I know... Now come and meet the master. Who knows, maybe you'll be coming here for a gift for a lady love yourself one day soon." Turning back, he knocked on the door, and entered.

The room was low ceilinged, but windows set into the roof filled it with sunshine. Long workbenches were lined with boxes containing tools, and draws at the far end of the room were labelled neatly with many of the materials of the goldsmith's trade.

Gyan himself was not immediately apparent, but after a moment, a small man with a shock of white hair, that appeared to be some years older than Magda appeared from under one of the benches. "Bless me there it is - now where...? Prince Loki! My apologies My Lord, I didn't hear you come in."

Gyan was, at first glance, an unprepossessing figure, small, stooped dressed in rough practical grey shirt and trousers, with a battered leather apron over the top. But his lined face was alight with wisdom and merriment, his blue eyes bright and alert, and full of joy at the sight of Loki, that was certain. The overall impression was of an alchemist. A dealer of wonder and magic, full of rare stories and skilled in his craft. Harry was entranced...

The three men sat, perched on the high stools that littered the workshop, and passed the time of day for some time. Gyan was full of questions concerning Loki's forthcoming wedding, and was intrigued by Harry, whom Loki introduced as a "Midgardian wizard of rare skill". After a while however, Loki looked up at the sun through the window, and rose to his feet. "I'm sorry Gyan, but we must leave now. You know I would happily stay all day... but I have a certain pressing engagement later today that I must not be late for."

"Of course My Lord, and I have what you came for right here." Gyan unlocked a heavy cupboard set discretely under the bench and drew out a beautiful flat wooden box. "You know that I would have been happy to deliver it for you."

Loki shook his head, and taking the box reverently from the old man, he handed it to Harry. "What do you think Harry?"

Harry opened it and gasped. The box contained two stunning hair combs, the teeth long and strong enough to hold Hermione's curls, but decorated with exquisite gold filigree, set with a beautiful naturalistic pattern of flowers, formed of coloured enamels, rubies and emeralds. A set of earrings and a pendent on a whisper thin gold chain had been made to compliment them. The whole set was stunningly elegant, but unusual enough to suit Hermione's personality.

"Wow – they're – wow."

Loki smiled broadly. "He is lost for words, a rare occurrence. Gyan you have without a doubt outdone yourself. This is some of the finest work you have ever produced. I thank you my friend."

He closed the box, and checked the lid with a smile. "Exactly as I requested. Thank you again."

Harry hadn't noticed the box before, and peered over his shoulder. The gold plate on the lid was engraved with a line of poetry that seemed vaguely familiar.

" _And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart  
I carry your heart, (I carry it in my heart.)"_

"ee cummings" mused Harry. "You're full of surprises Brother. But if we don't leave soon we will be late for lunch and your ... the King will never let us hear the end of it."

With a smile, Loki drew a pouch from his belt, and placed it quietly on the table, before offering his hand to the old goldsmith, who gripped it warmly.

"To think we should see this day Sir. My very best wishes to you and to your lady."

Gyan ushered them both down the stairs, bowing them both out of the door. Stepping out into the bustling sunny street, the two men headed back to the palace.

* * *

 _Reference for the ee cummings quotation will be in part two... M x_


	5. Chapter 5

_I can't believe that I've finally completed "Of Oaths and Promises". Hopefully this will give me time to work on some of my other projects - particularly this one. Thank you so much to everyone that continues to support these stories - please drop me a line and let you know what I think as I love to hear from you._

 _As always, I have no claim on either JKR's or Marvel's characters, and do not make any profit from my stories._

 _Don't miss the little bonus "The Watcher" which follows._

 _Merrick x_

* * *

 _Wedding Bells - Part Two :_

At Magda and Gyan's home, Loki had been relaxed and confident, but by the time he and Harry they crossed the courtyard, heading for the Great Hall for lunch he was noticeably quieter. Sitting at the table the conversation was relaxed and cheerful, with Thor the centre of attention as always. Loki however was pale and silent, pushing his food around his plate.

Harry leaned over to allow them to speak privately. "Are you alright?"

Loki's face was distracted, his eyes far away. After a few seconds, he became aware of Harry's attention. "Yes, thank you. " He hesitated a moment. " Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Would you deliver my gift after lunch please. Just check that – just check that everything is alright"

Harry frowned. "I'd be happy to, but - are you expecting that something will be wrong?"

Loki shot him a haunted look, then returned to pushing his food around his plate, shaking his head. Harry smothered a huge yawn, making Thor laugh.

"Young Harry, you are struggling to keep up my friend. The stoutness of your spirit makes me forget that your body is mortal. Go – rest. Persuade my brother to rest too if you can, for I am certain he would not have slept a wink last night, even with the wine that he accounted for..." Thor winked lecherously - "and he will need all his strength tonight."

Loki face palmed – shaking his head. "Tell me you didn't just say that Thor..."

Thor clapped a hand to his shoulder. "If you need any last minute advice Little Brother – I'm here for you – all you have to do is ask..."

Loki gave up the idea of trying to eat – he probably wouldn't be able to keep it down anyway – and rose from the table.

"The day I need your advice on women brother is the day I take a oath of chastity. I can at least tell a hart from a hind." Aware that his companions were looking interested, and that Thor had gone silent, he was unable to resist a parting shot. "Volstagg, ask my brother to tell you of the inn in Alfheim, and the maidservant that turned out to be not quite as he expected..."

The definition of comic timing, thought Loki, was knowing how to make an exit...

 _ooo0ooo_

Since Loki and Hermione had elected to spend their wedding night in the familiar comforts of the chamber which had been Loki's since he had left the nursery, custom dictated that they should vacate it, if possible, the night before, to allow for proper preparations to be made. With 144 guest chambers within the palace alone, this did not place undue strain on the accommodations, even with the arrival of a number of wedding guests. Hermione had temporarily relocated to the spacious Gold Chamber, and as Harry approached the door, a number of female voices could be clearly heard within.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked, and a moment later the door was opened by Lia, Hermione's new maid. Hovering uncomfortably in the doorway, Harry looked around the room.

Frigga and Jane were huddled in a corner, discussing some finer point of dress. Frigga's maid was setting out a number of things that meant absolutely nothing to Harry on the dressing table. In the centre of it all, Hermione, her long hair wrapped in a thick towel, was laid face down on the bed, wearing nothing but a very small cloth over her hips and a quantity of an oil that made her skin shimmer in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. Lucilla was industriously massaging the oil, which filled the room with the scent of roses and vanilla, into her body. Hearing the door open, Hermione lifted her head – her eyes widening in shock.

"Harry! Err hello. Can you give me a moment please."

Harry was no longer the callow young wizard that had blushed and stammered when a pretty girl smiled at him. Experience of life and of love had given him a degree of poise around women that he would have given his soul for in his Hogwarts days. Even so, that was probably more of his best friend than he had ever seen in his life before, and he was mortified to feel a long forgotten heat surge into his face as he stepped back and closed the door.

A few minutes later the door was opened once more, this time by Hermione, mercifully wearing a soft blue robe. She stood back smiling, seeing the telltale heat still lingering in his face.

"Harry, how nice to see you, come in. I understand from Frigga that you were feeling a little – frail – this morning. Rather late for breakfast too I hear. Are you feeling better?"

Uncomfortably aware of the number of female eyes watching him with varying degrees of amusement, Harry nodded, smiling ruefully. "I thought that after a few years taking in the Bondi Beach party scene I could hold my own where drinking was concerned. Now I know my place. On the Asgardian scale of alcohol consumption I am a pathetic amateur. In your terms, Thor is Severus Snape, Loki is you, and I am a snivelling first year that doesn't know wolfsbane from deadly nightshade..."

Standing by the bed Lucilla chuckled. "I hope that the Allfather passed on my gifts this morning."

Harry smiled down at her, kissing a hand still perfumed with rose and vanilla. "Lady Lucilla, if I live to be as old as the eldest Aesir I will be forever in your debt. You were my guardian angel this morning. I thank you." It was not only Loki, he thought with satisfaction, that could make a woman blush when he put his mind to it... even if he did know Lucilla to be a happily married woman with three children.

"And speaking of gifts _Lady_ Hermione. I bring a message from your husband to be. Custom forbids him from delivering it himself, so please excuse me – a poor substitute." With a teasing bow, he presented her with the box they had collected from Gyan that morning.

Hermione ran a slender finger over the inscription on the lid. "Oh Loki" she sighed, her voice and face softened with memory "he remembered."

Jane and Frigga were looking over her shoulder by now. "Oh, ee cummings. How lovely, I love that poem."

Seeing Frigga looking puzzled, Hermione explained further. "That day that Thor brought you, and Loki's magic to him at Hogwarts, he also brought a lovely carved wooden box, containing my ring and my apple, for Loki to keep safe until the time was right. It was Thor's way of giving us his blessing – making it clear to Loki that this was a future that he could have if he wanted it. Before Loki put it in his magical safe place, he inscribed this line on the lid. He knew it was one of my favourites, I used to read it to him, curled up together in the library in Hogwarts castle..." Closing her eyes, she concentrated for a moment...

 _'here is the deepest secret nobody knows  
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud  
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows  
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)  
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart_

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)'

I love the fact that it refers to Yggdrasil whether by accident or design."

"Hermione" said Jane softly "Don't forget to open it."

"Oops" she smiled "I was so carried away, I'd forgotten." She carefully lifted the lid, her eyes widening in wonder. Jane, and even Frigga, used to the riches of the Asgardian treasure vault gasped in amazement.

"Oh Hermione – these are exquisite." Frigga ran a wondering finger over the delicate filigree. "Harry, do you know who made these?"

He nodded. "We walked into the city to collect it this morning. Gyan and Magda are wonderful."

Frigga smiled. "Gyan is the finest goldsmith in the Nine Realms Hermione, and this is some of the best work he has ever produced. Loki has wonderful taste – Gyan does not produce goods for general sale. He only produces individual commissioned work, each piece a unique masterpiece. Incidentally, as a young man, he also made a gift for Odin's mother, Bestia. The ring that now resides on your finger."

Hermione looked at the simple twist of rubies and emeralds on her left hand and smiled. "Goodness, I had no idea." She considered the combs in the box thoughtfully. "Perhaps I could wear these in my hair this evening."

Leaving the other ladies poring over Loki's gift she drew Harry out onto the balcony. "How is Loki?"

"He's fine"

That searching look which had been able to see inside his head, ever since he was eleven. "Harry"

As usual he caved in seconds. "Ok, he was fine this morning, but I think the nerves are kicking in."

She nodded – clearly this was what she had been expecting.

"Try to keep him calm Harry. He will be fine once all this is over."

Seeing Harry's face, she tried to explain. "In spite of the distance we've come, there's still a part of Loki that doesn't believe he deserves this. That something is going to happen, even at this eleventh hour, to change my mind." She sighed, looking across to the Rose Garden where final preparations were well underway. " To make my realise that I'm marrying a monster tonight."

"Are you?"

"Oh no. I've met his Jotun form on many occasions and it holds no fears for me. The monster is in his mind, not mine." She reached out and took his hands in hers.

"Tell him I love him. Tell him I _will_ be there. And tell him thank you for the gift, which is wonderful..." Harry ruined the moment by yawning as once again his late night caught up with him... "and Harry – for goodness sake get some sleep."

 _ooo0ooo_

When Harry returned to Loki's chambers he opened the door softly and smiled. Thor was sprawled across the bed, snoring. Loki had clearly dozed off whilst reading a book, he slept lightly, twitching occasionally, like a cat.

Smiling, Harry flicked a quick silencing charm at Thor, before he curled up in the comfortable chair by the fireplace and was soon fast asleep.

 _ooo0ooo_

Harry felt considerably better when he woke several hours later. He lay still for a few moments, collecting his thoughts, and trying to work out what had woken him.

The answer, when it came was less pleasant. Someone was ill. The unmistakeable sound of retching was coming from the bathroom. Uncurling from the chair, he realised that it must be Loki's pre-wedding nerves kicking in with a vengeance. Thor was also awake, and panicking somewhat at his inexplicable inability to speak. "Sorry Thor" Harry didn't need a wand to lift his silencing charm. "You were on your back and snoring loud enough to wake the dead back on Earth. It was easier to silence you than to try to roll you over. You're a big guy."

Thor looked relieved. "I had presumed it to be Loki, it wouldn't be the first time he has silenced me. Sometimes to make a point, other times for pure devilry. One time he refused to lift it for a week because I kept interrupting him when he was trying to read."

Harry shuddered. "It's a good thing that Hermione never thought of that one, or Ron and I would have been permanently silenced for most of the time we were at school." He shook his head, remembering. "Looking back, she put up with a lot from us in those days."

They were interrupted by further noises of misery from the adjoining room. Thor looked distinctly uncomfortable - Harry sighed.

"Why don't you go and check everything is in hand downstairs and I'll see if I can talk some sense into him." To his credit, Harry thought, Thor did at least attempt to _not_ look relieved as he left.

Harry found Loki slumped against the wall in the bathroom, a picture of misery. Heaven knows he was usually pale, but his skin had a greenish grey cast to it that Harry didn't like the look of. The smell from the bowl beside him that he hadn't had the energy to vanish the contents of clearly wasn't going to help.

With a wave of his wand, the bowl was empty and clean. Harry held out his hand. "Come on, let's get you some fresh air. You can bring the bowl though – just in case."

He led the way out onto the terrace, and dropped onto the floor, Loki following suit, not to proud to lean weakly against him, taking deep breaths of fresh air. Harry conjured a glass of cold water and passed it to him.

"Rinse first, then sip."

While Loki collected himself, Harry told him of his visit to Hermione, and of her messages to him. Gradually his colour returned to an only slightly paler than normal shade.

"I've heard about pre wedding jitters Loki, that's normal and healthy. But really – you've got nothing to worry about. You should have faith."

This is true love. You think this happens every day? Now come – we've got a wedding to get ready for..."

 _ooo0ooo_

"It is very well Young Harry, although are you certain you would not prefer armour? I am sure that it is not too late to change your mind." Thor ran an approving eye over Harry, who finally looked into the mirror in some trepidation.

And had to admit that he was actually impressed. He was wearing slim fitting black leather trousers, with a fine linen tunic of a pale sage green. Over the tunic he wore a long coat of the softest leather he had ever seen. It had originally been Loki's favourite emerald green, but, not wishing to look even more like his and his than usual, Harry had magically turned it to a green that was so dark as to be nearly black. The coat was trimmed with bronze, which was picked up again on the buckle of the belt he wore, and on the embroidery on his tunic.

A lighter hand descended on his shoulder, and Harry looked up into the mirror to see Loki smiling over his shoulder.

"You look good brother. We will make an Asgardian of you yet."

Thor chuckled. " _Two_ black haired green eyed sorcerers – I am not certain that Asgard is ready for such a thing" Harry looked suddenly doubtful. He was aware that the broken relationship between Thor and Loki was only so recently healed. He had no wish to place additional strain between them.

Unusually perceptive, Thor seemed to pick up on his his concern, and drew him forward. "No Harry, do not look so worried. For too many centuries Loki has had to share me with my friends. It is my privilege now to share him with you, and you are most welcome to our fellowship."

A servant knocked nervously on the door. "Your majesty, my Lords. The Queen requests your presence in the garden. It is time."

Thor brushed an imaginary fleck from Loki's coat, and ushered them toward the door.

"Battle stations gentlemen...?"

* * *

 _The poem that Hermione quotes is "i carry your heart with me" by ee cummings._

 _"this is true love – you think this happens every day?" Well done to anyone that spotted the Princess Bride reference..._

 _M x_


	6. Chapter 6

_A tiny extra based on a picture that I found on Deviant Art by an artist called AgriAgripina. From the other work she has done I suspect that she is primarily a Dramione shipper, so I hope she will forgive me for using it for this pairing. A link to the picture is available on my bio page._

* * *

 _The Watcher_ _._

The wedding was over...

Down in the dining halls and the main gardens the remaining revelers were reaching the distinctly raucous stage, but bride and groom had already retired, as had Thor, Jane Frigga and Harry. It had been a long but very satisfying day and they were all exhausted.

Harry's head was pleasantly muzzy from the wine, but he was far from a state that would make him regret it in the morning. Still dressed in his tunic and trousers from the ceremony, he stood on the balcony, relaxing and enjoying the spectacular views of the stars and the night-time city, where some of the citizens were letting off fireworks in celebration of tonight's ceremony. He took a deep breath scented with roses and jasmine from the gardens below, pondering the events of the day.

A brief movement caught his eye. The walled garden below his balcony was Frigga's pride and joy, and was kept for use exclusively by her immediate family. Harry had been to the garden twice, but always in Frigga's company and by her personal invitation. Right now, someone was in the garden, sitting on the stone steps, presumably watching the lights play on the water in the ornamental pond.

The figure uncurled itself slightly, moonlight reflecting off slender pale arms wrapped around knees. Harry frowned, puzzled. What was Hermione doing in the garden alone on this – her wedding night – of all nights? Concerned, he tried to read her expression, although it was difficult, given the deep shadows that surrounded her. While her body language seemed relaxed, it still seemed very odd that she was there and even more so that she was there alone.

Unaware of Harry watching from above, Hermione suddenly tilted her head back smiling as Loki emerged from the shadows barefoot and dressed only in the trousers he had worn at the wedding.

"I'm sorry alskling. The timing was terrible, but the charter had to be read and signed tonight if I am to have a chance of some peace and quiet for the next few days. The last thing I want is Thor banging on the door tomorrow, when I intend to have my mind on much more...

Hermione rose and the shadows around her resolved into a green silk gown, floor length, but leaving her arms and back bare. Loki faltered, rooted to the spot.

Hermione's face was shadowed, but her tone was wicked. "What's the matter Silvertongue – lost for words"

Harry realised too late that he was spying on a moment that neither of his friends would wish to share. Turning away, he returned to his rooms and to bed. But as he closed his eyes, he couldn't help remembering that final image. Of Loki, eyes lost and wondering, drawing his new wife into his arms, kissing her like a drowning man with oxygen, hands possessive on her skin and hair. Of Hermione, melting against him, as lost as he.

"I want that" Harry thought suddenly. "I want what they have..."


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry, I was hoping to get this posted a little earlier, but my only daughter is flying the nest to University next weekend. Strange to imagine that by this time next week she'll be moved into her accommodation and we'll be on our way home. She's ready - still not sure I am though._

 _Anyway - to business. The wedding is over - what happens next... ? I've been looking forward to writing this meeting for a while now. Let me know what you think. Thank you to everyone that is following this story, and special thanks to those that take a moment to review..._

 _As always, I don't own anything - sadly. Merrick x_

* * *

 _Training a Warrior - Part Two:_

Harry woke the morning after the wedding, mercifully free of the previous day's hangover, but with a niggling feeling of anti climax.

While it appeared that Aesir newlyweds didn't go on honeymoons like they did on Earth, Harry had been assured by Thor the night before that he could not reasonably expect Hermione and Loki to emerge from their chambers for two days at the very least. Thinking about it, and knowing them as he did, Harry though glumly that he probably wouldn't see them for at least a week. Sitting alone at breakfast, he began to wish he'd brought a book, Thor had apparently risen early to catch up on work that had been put to one side in favour of the wedding preparations. Frigga and Jane both appeared to have decided that skipping breakfast completely in favour of a few additional hours of sleep was the best option and the contingent that had arrived on the bifrost the previous day had apparently also returned home. Had he not been so hungry, Harry might have been tempted to miss breakfast himself - as it was he was giving serious consideration to snagging another cup of coffee and escaping back to his room to snooze the morning away when Fandral dropped into the seat beside him.

"Young Harry. All alone this fine morning?"

Harry made a mental note to thank Thor for what appeared to be his new nickname – he realised that by Asgardian standards he was barely out of the cradle – but "Young" Harry? Really?

"Yes. I was thinking that I should have brought a book"

Fandral looked vaguely bemused by the idea of someone reading if they didn't have to, before smiling even more widely.

"We cannot have this Harry. Come, join us at the practice grounds. I understand that Dalan has been giving you lessons – he boasts of the progress you have made already."

Somewhat unnerved at the idea matching weapons with "real" warriors, Harry tried his best to escape, but Fandral was having none of it. "The King would be most displeased if we left you alone all morning. Come, I insist."

Since he insisted, there was no help for it. Going gloomily up to his room to change, Harry could only hope that the medical facilities in Asgard were up to standard.

 _ooo0ooo_

When Harry arrived at the training grounds there was already a bout underway. He recognised Fandral immediately, but his eyebrows shot up when he saw his opponent.

At the wedding, he had been aware all evening of the beautiful dark haired woman who had stood at the edge of the celebrations, watching, but always holding herself aloof. He had seen her speaking to Thor, looking relaxed and happy, but she had melted away when Jane had approached them. Later she had been with Frigga, but again, had quickly excused herself when Hermione had joined them. He had hoped for an introduction to this mysterious and beautiful Aesir, but the chance had never arisen.

He had never expected to see her here – especially not wielding a sword against Fandral with a lethal skill that he could not hope to achieve in his puny mortal lifetime.

"They are a well matched pair are they not Young Harry. Two of the finest warriors in the Nine Realms."

Harry turned and smiled at Volstagg, who's burly figure was also dressed for practice.

"Who is she?"

His eyebrows raised, and he grinned knowingly. "How could you not know the Lady Sif Young Harry? Surely you met her at last night's celebrations?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes never leaving the woman in the practice ring. "THAT is Sif? I have heard of her, from Loki, and from Thor, but neither of them mentioned...I saw her last night, and tried to get an introduction, but she proved to be remarkably elusive."

"That is no great surprise. I believe she would have avoided the occasion completely had it been permitted, but Thor would have been greatly offended if she had not attended." Volstagg's voice dropped to a distinctly gossipy level. "You have to know that she and Loki are not – friends."

Harry nodded absently, absorbed in watching the bout, but also admiring the way that Sif managed to be incredibly strong, and athletic, but still undeniably feminine. The tight leather practice corset and trousers she wore only emphasised this fact and were incredibly distracting. He tried to think of a polite way to ask... "Is she...with anyone?"

Volstagg threw back his head and roared with laughter, causing a number of heads to turn. "You do well to set your sights high Young Harry" he took Harry's arm and steered him away from the ring where they were more private. "Many centuries ago our lovely Sif gave her heart into the keeping of he who is now our King. They were indeed lovers for a while, but she never touched his heart as anything more than a friend and a companion. That could never be enough for her, and since then she has been his most loyal warrior and friend. She must have had lovers since, for I do not think her cold – quite the opposite in fact – but there cannot have been anyone serious."

Harry shook his head. The idea that nobody was making love to this incredible woman on a regular basis seemed almost unbelievable. Was it that she was still not over Thor, or were the men of this incredibly male-dominated world wary of a woman that was their equal in every way? "That is truly a crime my friend"

Volstagg was silent for a moment, watching Sif with thoughtful eyes. "Had Odin had his way she would even now have been our Queen. It must have been very hard for her, seeing Thor give his heart to the love of a mere mortal."

Harry snorted. "Speaking as a 'mere mortal' myself..."

"Apologies Young Harry. I meant no disrespect, but you must understand that the changes that have taken place in Asgard are very recent. Under the reign of Odin Allfather, mortals were all but banished from the realm as a weak and inferior species. Sif knew no different for most of her life.

It has never been admitted, but I believe that one of the reasons that Thor took the throne when he did was because he and Loki were both in love with mortal women. As long as Odin was King of Asgard, nothing could ever have come of it. While I don't think that Loki would have scrupled to thumb his nose at Odin and Asgard if it came to it - for his new bride is very lovely, Thor was the heir and would never have done such a thing"

Harry's eyes slid sideways, since Volstagg seemed inclined to gossip. "What's the deal with Sif and Loki? Is it just jealousy...or...?"

But at that moment, the two opponents drew apart, and Fandral looked up. "Harry! Welcome! Come, let us see how you are progressing." He turned to the crowd that had gathered. "Be off with you... If you have no duties I am certain we can find you something to do" To Harry's great relief, the onlookers melted away. If he was going to make a fool of himself, he was relieved not to have an audience again.

Once the training grounds were silent, Harry looked apprehensively at Fandral, but the blonde haired man laughed.

"Nay Harry. Today you will spar with Sif so that I can watch you – have you met the Lady Sif?"

Harry turned to face Sif, but faltered at the look of disdain on that lovely face.

"What Fandral, you want me to school this mortal? He's like a child playing with his father's sword, it takes hundreds of years to train an Aesir Warrior. This boy makes a mockery of our traditions..."

Volstagg chuckled nervously. "Come Sif. Dalan speaks well of the boy, says he has a strong arm, and quick eye and balance. And moreover that he is humble and eager to learn"

Harry's first instinct was to say _well screw you then..._ and walk away. After all, he hadn't really wanted to be here anyway had he? But Sif was very lovely, and something in him wanted her to respect him. He may not stand a chance in hell of getting her to love him, but respect – maybe.

Stepping back, he held his arms akimbo, sword in hand, smiling, charm batteries at 110%. "Come, my Lady. The valour and the skill of Lady Sif is surely known across the Nine Realms. Even on Midgard your reputation is known". OK he thought, she was goddess of the harvest or something, but it wasn't a lie – she _was_ known. She was also supposed to have been Thor's wife, but maybe under the circumstances he'd better not mention that. "Won't you spare a few minutes to teach this lowly mortal a lesson in swordplay?"

Sif huffed in irritation. Harry had boxed her into a corner, and well she knew it. She had no intention of allowing him to charm her, but he had put her in a position where she could not walk away without appearing churlish. With no good grace, she drew her sword once more, hefting it skilfully, like an extension of her arm as she circled him like a panther, eyes cool and mocking.

Many men would have been irritated by this, but Harry had been mocked and taunted by Malfoy whilst flying the bristles off his broom at in a force nine gale just below the cloud line. It would take more than this lovely Aesir to rile or distract him. Besides - being unruffled and charming in the face of her churlishness only served to irritate her further – and she was sexy as hell when she was annoyed, he had to admit.

Her first thrusts were almost insultingly simple to parry. When he batted them aside with ease, she recollected herself and started to concentrate, probing his defences with more subtlety. Harry might be woefully inexperienced, but he had the advantage of height and reach, and his years flying seeker had given him flawless balance, extraordinary hand / eye coordination and razor fast reaction speeds, all of which went some way to balance the bout.

He was never going to win – he had known that. After twenty minutes the muscles in his arms and shoulders were burning and he knew this wouldn't last much longer. Finally, his concentration slipped and he over reached himself, landing in an undignified heap in the sand. _Damn – way to look cool Harry, ending up on your backside._

But the hand that reached down to pull him to his feet was not Fandral's or even Volstagg's.

It was smaller, calloused, with nail's bitten short – but unmistakeably feminine.

Harry looked up into Sif's blue eyes. Were they just a little less icy?

His hand gripped hers, and he tried not to be intimidated by the fact that she hauled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing. Sif's face was expressionless .

"Same time tomorrow – mortal"

Harry inclined his head – careful to give nothing away until later, when he was finally back in his rooms, leaning against the door, every muscle aching relentlessly.

"YES!"


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry this has taken so long to post. I have run out of pre-written chapters now, and real life has been a bit stressful. Hopefully things are a bit more on track now, and the plot bunnies are starting to nibble again. Thank you to you all for your continuing support._

 _We're into the countdown to Thor and Jane's wedding - something I've skipped over before. In this story we have brotherly bonding, a little Harry / Sif and Earth's Mightiest Heroes arriving in Asgard..._

 _In which Harry is buckled up, Sif loosens up and Steve Rogers is cracking up!_

* * *

 _Pomp and Circumstance - Part One:_

For Harry the weeks in Asgard passed swiftly. From time to time it would occur to him that maybe he should think about returning to Earth, to "real" life, but the rhythm of the days sped past, riding out, sometimes with Hermione or Loki, sometimes in larger parties, practicing at the training grounds, archery lessons, helping Hermione and Lucilla set up their potions lab within the palace, or spending quiet times in the Great Library debating magical issues with Hermione and sometimes Loki. Here, on an alien planet, he finally felt a true sense of family that he had only ever known at the Weasleys'.

As the summer passed, the tempo of life within the palace started to pick up, with preparations for Thor and Jane's wedding, which would include Jane's formal coronation as Queen of Asgard. With almost a thousand guests attending, with every guest chamber – within and without the palace full to bursting, and every inn in the entire realm booked up Harry was pleasantly surprised when his offer to vacate his room was swiftly declined by both Thor and Frigga. He felt like a part of the family, he was firmly informed, and as such, his presence at the wedding was essential.

But if he was to attend such an important event, the vexed issues of the proper clothing needed to be addressed... Harry surveyed the complex arrangement of metal and leather laid out on his bed in utter bewilderment before turning to Loki who was leaning against the doorframe with a familiar smirk on his face, arms folded, legs crossed at the ankle.

"I don't suppose this comes with an instruction manual? I don't even know where to start – it looks like a nightmare logic puzzle."

Loki finally relented and took pity on him. "You don't need an instruction manual Harry, that's what you have me for. I've been wearing armour like this for the better part of a thousand years. Normally I would put it on magically, which is easier and infinitely quicker, but until we know whether or not it will fit you that might not be such a good idea."

Harry scowled suspiciously. "And you're certain that I _have_ to wear this for Thor and Jane's wedding?"

Loki sighed patiently "You're attending the wedding of the King of Asgard and the Allfather of the Nine Realms Harry, and the coronation of Asgard's new Queen. It doesn't get any bigger than this. Barring a catastrophe, Thor and Jane will rule for three or four thousand years. This is a huge state occasion, so yes, full dress armour is _de rigeur_ I'm afraid. Come on. It really isn't that bad, let me help you."

Almost an hour later, in which Loki had wrapped, strapped, buckled, adjusted, sworn and occasionally magically reshaped pieces, Harry surveyed himself in the mirror. The armour was a mixture of black leather and brushed silver and looked – "Wow" he murmured, wide eyes meeting Loki's "It looks amazing, but it feels so heavy."

"You will quickly become accustomed to it brother. You look like a true Asgardian." Loki's hand rested on his shoulder, green eyes warm. "Like one of the family." A flash of mischief lit his face. "I'm sure you'll impress the Lady Sif dressed like this."

Hot colour scorched Harry's face. "I know that you and she don't get on... Who am I kidding. She's never going to look at me twice, so it's all hypothetical anyway."

Loki's eyes were far away. "Sif and I spent far too many centuries holding tightly to grudges that we should have put behind us long ago. Things are different now, but there is so much bad blood and mistrust between us that I do not know that it can ever be truly mended." He turned back to Harry, reaching for the cloak – a deep red, in honour of Asgard's King, and attached it to Harry's shoulders. "But as I said to you before – the heart wants what the heart wants, and maybe Sif needs to learn to love again. Since..." he paused, uncertain of how much he ought to disclose

"...Since your brother" finished Harry for him. "Volstagg is a terrible gossip"

"Since my brother she has added more and more barriers to her heart. It's a shame"

Harry looked at him shrewdly. "You were in love with her once...?"

Loki smiled, shaking his head ruefully. "It was a trifling thing. I was very young – and very foolish... But that is a story for another day... We need to get you out of this, unless you are planning to be very overdressed for supper tonight."

 _ooo0ooo_

Within the whirl of colour, stress and excitement which currently seemed to envelope the entire realm, Harry could not help but notice that one member of the household was holding herself aloof from the preparations. Sif took part in rehearsals when needed, and offered advice when asked, but it was clear to Harry that she was not happy, and he could not but help but watch her from afar with anxious eyes.

It was two days before the big day, and one day before he would be needed to help sheepdog the huge influx of dignitaries, who would be arriving both overland, and via the Bifrost (Harry didn't envy Heimdall the responsibility keeping track of who was coming in and when _at all_ ). Loki had been closeted with Thor, Dalan and a number of other advisors since dawn, and Hermione, Lucilla and Jane were all assisting Frigga with checking that all of the guest rooms were ready for tomorrow's arrivals. Servants were scurrying around the palace like a huge nest of ants, and down in the kitchens the head chef was threatening violence to all who displeased him. Feeling a little lost, Harry wandered aimlessly down to the stables, just in time to run into Sif, who was leading a black mare out of its stall, the mare was obviously fresh, and a little spooked by the levels of activity in the yard.

"Lady Sif" Harry took the mare's head for her, while she tightened the girth and pulled down the stirrups. As she took the reins back from him, he moved quietly around to boost her smoothly into the saddle.

Settling into the saddle, Sif looked down, noticing him for the first time. "Thank you – Harry"

Harry smiled, and rested a calming hand on the fidgeting mare's sleek neck. "I don't blame you. I was considering slipping away from the madness myself. Would you like some company?"

Sif bit the corner of her lip, and actually seemed to be considering his offer for a moment. "Thank you, but no... I need some time to myself I think."

Harry stepped back, still smiling. "I know I don't need to tell you to be careful. I know of no-one more capable of protecting herself than you. Enjoy your ride – Sif"

His eyes met hers for a moment, before she kicked her mount on, and left the yard.

 _ooo0ooo_

The following day Harry reported to the Bifrost with Fandral and Volstagg and a number of others that he didn't recognise, to help shepherd the incoming guests to the right place. For once even the inscrutable and all-seeing Heimdall had resorted to a list, although the long elegant roll of parchment was impressive in itself, and in no way detracted from his dignity. Visitors were to be escorted via a number of waiting carriages, to the Great Hall where they would be greeted officially and conducted to their accommodation. Even Harry was impressed by the efficiency of the entire operation.

Harry had already greeted and escorted two parties, and had apparated back to the Bifrost when he was called over by Heimdall. "Harry Potter, your timing is excellent. I have a party coming in from Midgard next."

Harry stepped forward, "Who do we have Heimdall?"

"Dr Eric Selvig and Miss Darcy Lewis from London, followed almost immediately by Mr Tony Stark, Dr Bruce Banner, Mr Steve Rogers, Miss..." Heimdall broke off and peered more closely at the list "... Miss Pepper Potts, and Miss Natasha Romanov from New York".

"Blimey" muttered Harry. "Earth's mightiest heroes all in one go..."

Heimdall's golden eyes flickered sideways with a brief smile. "I don't know about that Harry Potter. As the saviour of the Midgardian magical world, you should fit right in."

It was therefore, with a little more confidence that Harry stepped forward to greet Captain America, Iron Man, The Hulk, the Black Widow and company. He was not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed at how very ordinary they all appeared. Rogers and Romanoff were both in jeans, Dr Banner was dressed rather like a geography teacher, and Tony Stark wore a suit that was razor sharp, and probably cost more than Harry's entire Earth wardrobe.

Once the formalities were over, and they were all ensconced in the two carriages, Harry passed on Thor's apologies that he was unable to greet them in person. "He's been closeted with Jane, Frigga, Loki and Hermione, doing a final run through for tomorrow, but he will see you all later on"

Harry was suddenly aware that the occupants of his carriage, Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts and Tony Stark were all looking at him in stunned horror.

"Did you say _Loki?"_ said Stark slowly

It dawned upon Harry, that this was the group responsible for taking Loki down in New York...

Awkward.

"Ah. I apologise. I had assumed that Thor would have told you. It was apparently agreed between Asgard, the American government and that creepy agency whose name I've forgotten, that he has been punished enough. He and Thor are reconciled, and Loki is now his Lord Chancellor and right hand man – well, mage. Oh, and he's married."

The faces of his three companions were a picture.

" _Loki?"_ Tony Stark managed to blurt out. "What deranged female did they find that was prepared to marry that nutjob?"

Harry's face closed, his green eyes hard. "My best friend. I arrived in Asgard at the beginning of the summer for their wedding." By now the carriage was pulling into the courtyard. Harry reached for the door before it had a chance to stop, nearly knocking a footman flying. As he jumped out, he glared back over his shoulder. "And leave Loki alone. He's been through enough."

By the time they got out of the carriage Harry had vanished. The carriage's other three occupants looked at one another in consternation.

"Who the hell is going to tell Eric and Bruce?"

Stark grinned at Rogers smugly. "You're the Captain... just be glad that Barton isn't here, otherwise you really would have your hands full"

Rogers pinched the bridge of his nose. He could already feel a headache coming on.

"Is it too late to go home do you think?"


	9. Chapter 9

_Apologies - this chapter fought me tooth and nail for almost a week until yesterday when it finally capitulated, and turned into probably the longest single update that I've published so far..._

 _I've had a brilliant response to these stories, for which I thank all those that have favourited, followed and reviewed. With pressures from RL I've really fallen badly behind on answering those reviews for which I apologise from the bottom of my heart, but just because I haven't replied, please don't think I don't read and appreciate every single one_

 _Now we have Part Two of Thor and Jane's Wedding. In which a wizard dances, Sif is surprised and Steve Rogers learns rather more about Loki..._

 _Merrick x_

* * *

 _Pomp and Circumstance Part 2:_

Being at what was probably the biggest event in the entire Nine Realms for the next four to five thousand years was certainly something to brag about thought Harry, but all things being equal he'd take Hermione and Loki's wedding over Thor and Jane's any day. The tiny little official from Alfheim whose name he didn't have a cat in hell's chance of pronouncing, let alone spelling, and who was apparently the only person in the Nine Realms important enough to marry the King of Asgard, was also afflicted with a major case of verbal diarrhoea. To add to his discomfort, the late summer day was punishingly hot and he must have been standing in leather, armour and a heavy cloak in the oppressively crowded and stuffy Throne Room for at least two hours – and they hadn't even got to Jane's coronation yet. There were some benefits to magic though, he thought smugly. Cooling charms made it all a bit more bearable, and from the cool unruffled appearance of the Bride and Groom, Loki or Hermione must have cast something on them before they started the ceremony – unlike some of the guests who were beginning to look alarmingly hot under the collar. Even cooling charms couldn't do anything to prevent sore feet or aching backs though.

As if sensing his distraction, Hermione's eyes slid sideways, shooting him a disapproving look as he fidgeted. Opposite her Loki was a statue in black trimmed with blood red and gold, centuries of princely training standing him in good stead – ruefully Harry wished for his friend's self discipline as he tried to discretely ease the pins and needles in his left foot.

At last, to his utter relief the droning voice drew to a close, and Thor and Jane were finally making their vows to one another. Unlike Hermione and Loki, this was no magical binding, simply the traditional handfasting with silken cords of blue and rose for Jane and the inevitable scarlet and gold for Thor. Finally Loki stepped forward, passing Idun's Apple to his brother to give to Jane and the first part of the ceremony was complete.

In comparison, Jane's coronation as Queen of Asgard, was relatively brief. By tradition no spouse of a monarch could be crowned without the approbation of the people, which was why royal marriages were always such enormous occasions. Turning, Thor took his bride's hand, and drew her forward to the edge of the steps.

"My friends, people of Asgard, honoured guests from the Nine Realms, I present to you my bride the Lady Jane Foster of Midgard. She is a woman of great honour, intelligence and strength, and she already holds my heart in her hands. Will you now have her as your Queen?"

Such was the people's love for their golden king, Harry thought, that they would have given their approval to Bellatrix Lestrange had he asked, but Jane, beautiful, softly spoken Jane, wide-eyed at the place that a chance meeting in the desert had brought her to, was a shoe-in, and the roar of approval, from both inside and outside the palace, left no doubt at all.

Hermione stepped forward carrying the Queen's coronet on a scarlet velvet cushion.

Jane knelt, dark head bowed, surrounded by the billowing skirts of her heavily embroidered cloth of gold gown. Thor took the coronet in hands which, Harry and Hermione could see, were not entirely steady.

"Jane Foster, Lady of Midgard and my beloved bride. I crown you Queen of Asgard and Guardian, besoe me, of the Nine Realms, by right of marriage, and by popular assent" He lowered the delicately crafted coronet onto her glossy dark hair, before raising her to her feet once more. Harry knew from watching rehearsals, that he was supposed to kiss her formally on both cheeks before presenting her to the people. Instead he pulled her spontaneously into his arms, lifting her clear off her feet, shimmering skirts flying as he spun her around, kissing her soundly.

It was a guaranteed crowd pleaser and the spectators erupted into roars of approval. But more than that, it was the joy of the couple before them that they truly responded to, both young, beautiful and a symbol of their people's hope for the future. As the royal party, Thor and Jane at the centre, Loki and Hermione to their left, and Frigga to their right moved to the balcony to make the customary appearance to the citizens of Asgard who had gathered below, Harry couldn't help but compare the sight before him to what he had heard of the days of Odin Allfather. It was no wonder that the people roared their approval for the King and Queen, that had brought the sunshine back to their city.

 _ooo0ooo_

The night had drawn in – the truly spectacular feast was over and the guests had changed out of their armour and formal gowns into something more appropriate for the drinking and dancing that were to follow. Harry had happily shed his cloak and armour in favour of a silver grey silk tunic with black embroidery, and was feeling considerably more comfortable. He had already danced with Hermione, Jane, Lucilla and even Frigga – now, with a goblet of wine in his hand, what he really needed was some fresh air.

The summer air was cool and soft on his face, as Harry wandered slowly across the large curved balcony, enjoying the spectacular views. There were a few knots of people chatting quietly, and in a darkened corner, he was fairly sure he could see Fandral attempting to work his not inconsiderable charms on one of the ladies of the court. If it was the lady he suspected it was, Harry wished him luck. She was very lovely, but very very married, to a man notorious for both his possessive nature, and his skill with a sword – Fandral should watch his back. Leaving them discretely to it, Harry turned to move further down the balustrade, idly looking down into the garden, where Loki and a small group of specialists were finalising the details of a spectacular firework display, which would take place in about an hour. It had been Loki's pet project, and was likely to be the most spectacular in the memory of even the longest lived Aesir – after all Loki had a reputation to protect. Such had been his recent obsession with fireworks, that Hermione had started to call him Gandalf, which made Jane and Harry laugh, but which was lost on Thor.

Believing himself to be alone at the far end of the balcony, Harry perched sideways on the balustrade, leaning back against one of the marble pillars, enjoying the peace and quiet after the frantic whirl of the last few days, when a small movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Someone else was sharing his end of the balcony. Someone with long dark hair which gleamed in the lamplight. Her dress, which left her arms and much of her smooth back bare, was just discernible as the deep and dreaming blue of the evening sky. Quietly, Harry left his spot to stand nearer to her. Even in profile the lovely face was tense and closed, the rigidity of her shoulders betraying her rigorously repressed emotions, as did the tightly clenched fists, resting on the balustrade.

"...A lovely sight"

Sif sighed, but didn't look around. "Yes. The principal balconies and terraces of the palace were deliberately positioned to give the best views across the city and the sea."

Harry smiled. "Really - that's impressive. Although I wasn't actually talking about the view of the city – spectacular though it is. I was looking at something a little closer." He paused to find a convenient ledge for his drink "...Why is the bravest and most beautiful lady in Asgard out here alone, instead of inside, with a long queue of men clamouring to dance with her?"

Sif turned slightly. "I do not care to dance"

"No" said Harry softly – greatly daring. "Because the man you gave your heart to dances with his bride tonight."

Her chin came up – blue eyes narrowed "You forget yourself – _mortal"_ hissed Sif angrily. "Whether I do or do not dance is no concern of yours."

"You're right, it is no concern of mine. But when a friend is unhappy – that is my concern. When a woman like yourself encloses her heart and soul in ice to prevent it being hurt again – that too is my concern."

"And what? _Mortal."_ She had turned away from him once again "... you believe that you can fill _his_ place in my heart and in my bed? You think far too much of yourself." Beneath the anger her pain was clear to see.

Behind him, the music had started again. Harry risked a step closer.

"Will you dance with me Lady Sif?"

"What?"

His smile was warm and a little mischievous. "Will you dance with me Lady Sif?"

"Did you hear any of my words? Or are you too deafened by your own arrogance?"

Harry took one small, work roughened hand from the balustrade. "Sif. I asked you to dance with me. Not to marry me, just to dance. The evening is young, and it would be a terrible shame to waste that lovely dress, hiding out here." When her expression softened just a little, he drew her gently back towards the hall, his voice conspiratorial and unthreatening. "And beside. I overheard that creepy red haired guy in the bright purple robe saying that he was going to try to find you – at least if I do tread on your toes, you can guarantee I'll be an awful lot lighter – he could surely give Volstagg a run for his money"

His patience was rewarded by a reluctant chuckle as they stepped back into the hall.

 _ooo0ooo_

Frigga was having a wonderful evening, ecstatic to finally see both of her beloved sons so settled and happy, and had been celebrating by dancing the soles from her shoes all evening. Jane and Hermione had finally lured her back to a table for a few minutes respite, while they looked back on the events of the day. Thor was pinned down under friendly fire by a princess from Vanaheim who was definitely several centuries past her best, and Loki was still down in the gardens dealing with fireworks. Jane and Hermione were giggling quietly over Thor's paralysed expression when Frigga gave a small exclamation of satisfaction.

Frigga had been concerned to see Sif's expression become increasingly frozen over the course of the celebrations, until she finally retreated out onto the balcony to lick her wounds in relative privacy. Now it appeared that Harry had succeeded in luring her back into the hall and onto the dancefloor.

"Young Harry is quite the dancer – and quite the charmer it seems"

Hermione let out a gurgle of laughter. "He's come a long way since school clearly. He used to blush furiously if a pretty girl so much as looked at him – and he would've rather cut his legs off than take one onto the dance floor – where he had two left feet. And look at him now."

Frigga smiled. "He certainly seems to be enjoying himself – and so is Sif. She used to love to dance, but I haven't seen her on the dancefloor for – centuries maybe"

"Hmm," Hermione frowned. "She's not my favourite person I must admit. But hey..." she looked at Jane "from what I've heard, your husband was an arrogant prat and mine was definitely a wannabe megalomaniac, so I suppose there's plenty of scope for Sif to change. I just hope she does it sooner rather than later. Unlike Jane and I, Harry doesn't have five thousand years...

 _ooo0ooo_

Harry and Sif slipped quietly away from the party sometime after the newlyweds but long before the serious drinkers were likely to call it quits. Much to Sif's chagrin Harry had insisted on walking her back to her chambers. "I know - you're more capable of taking care of yourself than anyone I know - but you're tired and you're not exactly dressed for a fight, so just humour me for once...ok" Sif had agreed with a sigh that was only partially feigned; now she led him through an unfamiliar maze of corridors. By now Harry was quite familiar with the wing that constituted the Royal apartments but this was new to him.

Sif smiled a little at his confusion. "These are the Court apartments. I have one of the nicest on the lower floors, but the ones higher up are smaller. Will you find your way back alone?"

"Wizard remember? If I'd known where you lived I could've saved you the walk, but apparating blind, carrying a passenger when you're this tired is a very bad idea."

They turned right into a side corridor and Sif finally stopped at one of the doors with a resigned expression. Harry suspected that this was the point where she was expecting to have to fight him off - but doing the unexpected had served him well so far.

Stepping closer, he bent to brush the lightest of kisses onto her fingers. "Goodnight Sif. I had a lovely evening, thank you. Sleep well"

Then he left her.

As he turned left out of her corridor he paused to look back. She was still standing by her door, watching him. Clearly she had _not_ expected that. With a final wave, Harry apparated back to his room...

 _ooo0ooo_

Harry woke bright and early the following morning with little inclination to stay in bed. Grabbing coffee and a hasty breakfast he followed his nose down to the training grounds, hoping that he might bump into Sif. Unfortunately she was nowhere to be seen, but he did find a sizeable crowd watching Loki in hand to hand combat with Dalan. The burly Captain of the Guard was almost as tall as Loki, and significantly broader and heavier, but this didn't appear to cause Loki any problems whatsoever as he was just pulling Dalan up from the ground after a particularly bruising throw. After a few minutes Harry realised that the man standing next to him, watching with interest was none other than Captain America himself. Harry nodded curtly, before turning back to the two combatants.

"Mr Potter...?"

"Harry"

"Harry. I apologise if Stark offended you the other day in the carriage. He has a tendency to speak without considering the consequences and causing offence is what he does best..." Rogers was silent for a moment before adding "...although to be fair, Loki did throw him through a window"

Harry shrugged, unimpressed "I would have expected one of Earth's mightiest heroes would be unfazed by something as minor as being tossed through a window"

Rogers cleared his throat. "It was on the 92nd floor of Stark Tower. He wasn't wearing a suit at the time."

Harry had the grace to look abashed. "Ah. I see. Who caught him?"

"Jarvis, his AI. Stark was wearing tracking bracelets at the time, which enabled Jarvis to send a suit down after him, but it was a close run thing – and the repulsors firing to push him back up nearly took out half a dozen civilians. Of course we realised afterwards that Loki was as controlled as Dr Selvig and Barton – but that kind of thing doesn't endear you y'kn..." Rogers' voice tailed off in shock.

In the course of the bout it appeared that Loki's lightweight linen shirt had been ripped, leaving it flapping distractingly around his right arm. Having snagged it once already, he had clearly lost patience and was in the process of pulling the ruined garment over his head.

Harry knew of Loki's scars, he had even caught a brief glimpse of them when they were changing for Loki's wedding. But he had never seen them so clearly - in the bright morning sunshine, the mass of melted distorted, discoloured flesh running from his shoulders to the waist of his trousers stood out with appalling ferocity.

"What the fuck...?" Steve's eyes were wide in horror.

Harry glared at him. "D'you remember how I told you that you should leave Loki alone? That he'd been punished enough."

Steve Rogers was white as his tee shirt, his eyes never leaving Loki's ruined back. "That was for...? What the hell did they do to him?"

Harry drew him away from the crowd surrounding the combatants, away from prying ears.

"Odin sentenced him to death for what he did in New York."

"Odin? As in the King of Asgard? Their father?"

Harry shrugged. "Loki's adopted father if we're going to be strictly accurate."

"Didn't he know about the whole mind control thing? It must've come up at the trial."

Harry's face was grim. "Oh he knew alright. And to be fair I don't think that being hauled up in front of a room full of your greatest enemies, still muzzled and with no one to speak for you quite counts as a trial. Fundamentally Loki's greatest crime was not attempting to take over the world , but embarrassing Odin once too often."

Steve slumped weakly onto a nearby bench. "Dear God"

"He stripped him of his rank and his magic and sent him to the cave of the World Serpant, five days journey from here. The snake is dead now, but apparently it was trapped in the rock high in the roof of the cave, and dripped concentrated acid from its fangs on whichever poor bastard they choose to chain up beneath it."

Steve was positively green by now, shaking his head mutely.

Harry pressed on, sensing that this may be the only chance anyone would have to tell this tale. "Remember, even without his magic, Loki is Jotun, and like the Aesir, as tough as Grandad's boots. The venom would have had to actually made contact with his heart before it killed him.."

"...how long?" Steve's voice was little more than a strained whisper.

"Well no-one's actually certain, but months definitely – years if he was really unlucky."

Rogers frowned suddenly. "Did Thor know...?"

Harry shook his head, glad to set that record straight. " _No_ – he would  never have allowed it to happen. And Frigga – I remember Thor saying that she would rather have seen Odin dead and Asgard in ashes around him. They were the only two that never lost faith in him. No Odin made sure that they were both well out of the way before he passed sentence, then fed Frigga a pack of lies when she got back."

"So what happened...?"

"Thor was chasing his tail around Asgard trying to get a straight answer from the moment he got back but everyone was more afraid of Odin than they were of him. Except for one man. The red haired guy that Loki's wrestling with? He was one of the soldiers that escorted Loki – but it didn't sit right with him, what Odin did to his son, so when Thor came back, he told him."

"And Thor rescued him?"

"Oh yes. He'd been in the cave itself for nearly a week by then. Aside from the venom, he'd been viciously beaten several times by the guards, in addition to some older, half healed injuries..." Steve winced remembering the hole in Stark's floor. "Anyway, Thor found him, killed the serpent, and took them both to Earth. He took him to a - safe place – I can't tell you where, but even Odin's eyes couldn't reach him there. And that was where he met Hermione..."

"His wife? She seems really nice. Stark says Pepper was really taken with her, they spent some time talking yesterday"

Harry smiled warmly. "Hermione's the best. She nursed him back to health physically, and put him back together mentally..." he shook his head "...he was a mess man. Not long after that Thor seized the throne of Asgard, but Loki knew he wasn't ready to come back - stayed on Earth with Hermione – working alongside her, for two years until Odin died, and they were able to finally talk about returning. That was this spring."

Steve's eyes were still on the training yard, but he was trying to wrap his head around the idea that Loki had been on Earth for pretty much the whole of the last two years without anyone appearing to be aware of it.. "He seems – better."

Harry nodded, smiling. "Oh yeah. He's great y'know. Wickedly smart – like – genius smart. Brilliant tactician, more politically savvy than anyone I've ever met, charm by the bucketload and snarky as hell."

"He sounds too good to be true"

Harry laughed. "Oh Gods no. He's the most sarcastic bugger I've ever met in my life, and believe me, he comes with a shit load of baggage. Not only does he not suffer fools gladly – he doesn't suffer them at all; and he can hold a grudge longer than anyone I've ever met."

Steve looked at him steadily. "You're very fond of him?"

"He's the big brother I always wanted but never had."

"How does Thor feel about that?"

Harry shrugged. "I was worried y'know, but Thor seems to've adopted me too, as his other bratty baby brother. Now Loki has a role and an identity beyond that of Thor's weedy annoying little brother, finally feels like he's good at something for a change – nothing he did for Odin was _ever_ good enough... and of course, he really really loves Hermione..." He turned to face Rogers. "Look - I've probably said far more than I should but - I really wanted you to see the other side of him you know. Just - discretion please - ok?

Both men became aware that the bout had finished, and Loki was heading their way. Rogers clapped Harry on the shoulder as he rose to leave, nodding curtly at Loki. "Thanks for that Harry – I'll see you around..."


	10. Chapter 10

_Apologies for the delay with this. I've had lots of inspiration, but all for stories much further down the timeline, and I really didn't want to start mixing things up at this stage. This isn't quite as long as I would've liked but I hurt my wrist this evening, and it's getting too painful to type anymore, so I've had to call it quits._

 _Thanks again to all those lovely people that are following this story. Reviews especially, are greatly appreciated._

 _Merrick x_

* * *

 _The Fine Line Between..._

Harry straightened his aching back, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes.

"How did I let Dalan talk me into this?"

The armoury of the palace was a carefully guarded vault, set out almost like a museum, holding a small number of key historic artefacts. The armoury of the palace barracks however, was a very different matter. While the weapons of the existing guard were ordered and well kept, there were huge stashes of old and used weaponry in storage, which needed to be cleared out to generate more space. This was a huge job, that everyone knew needed to be done, and no-one wanted to do; but in their last inspection of the barracks, both Thor and Loki had thrown their hands up in horror, and the order had been given. Sort this out. Now. And in a moment of weakness Harry had found himself volunteering to help Dalan out. A decision he was rapidly coming to regret.

Two piles of broken weapons were building up. One for those that were worth repairing, and another for those that were beyond salvage. These would be returned to the great forges for melting down and re-use. Occasionally something interesting would turn up, but not very often. They had been at it for hours, the supper hour was approaching and Harry had had enough.

When raised voices were heard next door, it was a welcome distraction. Fandral, Harry and the two other men at arms helping them paused, listening intently. Dalan, his head in a large crate at the back of the room took a little longer to catch on...

"I grow tired of this. I have nothing further to say to you." The voice was only too familiar to them all...

A hand struck a wooden surface, possibly the guardroom table.

"Oh no Loki – you will stay and hear me out. You will not walk away from this..."

There was a moment's silence. Harry and Fandral's eyes met. When it came, Loki's voice was ice cold... "Lady Sif, if I have to remind you what I can and cannot do – I promise you that it will not be a lesson to your liking."

Harry dropped the armful of weapons unceremoniously and strode out of the door.

Sif was standing in the centre of the guardroom, legs braced, fists clenched, face flushed with fury. Loki, typically, was leaning against the doorframe, looking bored, and faintly irritated, but the frenetic tapping of a single long finger against the dagger at his belt betrayed his agitation clearly to Harry. He had known Loki for over six months now, and was becoming fluent in the subtle tells that betrayed his moods.

This was not good. Hermione aside, no-one could rile the normally inscrutable Loki up as quickly as Sif, and this was neither the time nor the place for a brawl.

"Sif. Just the person, I need a word. Walk with me..." Taking Sif firmly by the elbow, Harry flashed Loki a warning glance, and steered her out, Loki stepped aside to let them pass, turning to return to the palace, and no doubt to Hermione. At least she would calm _him_ down. Now to deal with Sif.

Who was now busy transferring her fury from Loki to Harry...

 _Whoops..._

"What the Hel do you think you're doing _mortal?_ Who asked _you_ to interfere?" Sif was really riled up now. It was a good thing they were in public. Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that she would have little hesitation in using the sword at her hip if she could be certain there would be no witnesses.

"You know Sif, I'm getting really tired of " _mortal"_. I rather hoped we were past that..."

"That was before you decided that you had a right to interfere in my affairs. Or perhaps it was your beloved _brother_ you were trying to protect."

Harry sighed. "Sif, the guardroom of the palace barracks is not the place to brawl with the King's brother. Fandral, Dalan and two of the men at arms were with me in the back storage vault. They would have heard every word"

"Do you think I care for the opinion of common men at arms? He insulted me."

Harry could feel his temper rising. She was impossible. Brilliantly, stubbornly, insufferably – gorgeously, impossible. After six months, his fascination with her was as overwhelming as ever, blinding him to the charm of other, simpler, more amenable women. Over the months he had slowly made progress, but it was always one step forward, two steps back, sometimes three or four steps back, but he hadn't stopped trying. Now, suddenly, they were back to the hated _mortal._ Back to square one.

"You may not care for the opinion of a common man at arms _Lady_ Sif, but I'm damn sure that you'll care what _Thor_ thinks. He'd be delighted to hear how you've been shrieking like a common fishwife at the _Lord Chancellor of Asgard in_ front of anyone that cares to listen _..."_

Gods she was fast, Harry rubbed his stinging cheek ruefully. Given her superior strength he supposed he should be grateful that she hadn't broken his jaw. Aware of the amused glances of Dalan and Fandral who had followed them out of the guardroom, Harry shot them a furious glare – _you really are not helping –_ and set off in hot pursuit of his quarry.

He finally caught her in one of the palace corridors.

"You really cannot take a hint can you?"

"Sif, you have to stop this. Loki is here to stay now, and nothing you can do is going to change that. _You cannot win this._ Don't try to make Thor choose Sif. You _will_ lose. He is Thor's brother, whatever his blood. Thor loves him..."

"Do you?"

"What? Yes Sif I do. He is the nearest thing I have to a brother of my own."

"Are you sure. Such things are not unknown... Loki has lived for over a thousand years. You would not be his first male lover."

"He is my best friend's husband Sif, and beside – I don't swing that way..."

"Really Harry. What is it that mortal poet of yours says _methinks you do protest too much...?_ "

 _He'd been patient. Really really patient with her. He'd courted her, teased her, charmed her out of her darker moods. He'd put up with her sniping and snarking, for those occasional golden moments of connection between them. And no matter how hard she pushed him, he'd never pushed her, no matter how desperately he'd wanted to. And all he'd achieved was making her wonder whether he was more interested in Loki..._

 _Enough..._

 _Ah – to hell with it. What had he got to lose? Other than his head – or possibly some even more treasured parts of his anatomy..._

He kissed her...

It wasn't a gentle kiss. There was nothing tender, loving or erotic in it. It was a battle of wills, of lips and teeth, vicious and intense. Her body slammed back against the wall with a force that would have injured a more fragile, mortal woman, his hands gripping her shoulders hard enough to bruise even her...

When it changed, Harry wasn't sure, only that the lips beneath his suddenly softened, parted, and his senses slipped and reeled. No submissive maiden this, she still gave as good as she got, their tongues and lips dueling for supremacy, neither willing to surrender control to the other. But now her hands were tangled in his hair, his slipping from her shoulders to pull her body hard against his, and things were slowing down. Softening into something infinitely better, deeper, more heated... The need to breathe was becoming an issue, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care.

Eventually they were forced to separate, both breathing heavily, his forehead resting against hers, bodies still locked together.

"Sif" Harry's voice was ragged.

"Your chambers or mine?"

He was familiar with her chamber, it was luxurious by common standards but...

"Mine, I have the bigger bed"

She nodded, eyes hazy. "Sounds good. Yours then"

Harry gathered his distracted thoughts. Now was not the time to splinch either of them. "Hold tight"

Sif absolutely did _not_ squeal when he apparated them...

 _ooo0ooo_

Harry woke just after dawn the following morning. Sif was silently searching the room for her clothes, which were, like Harry's, scattered across the floor. The remains of a late night supper lay on a side table.

Harry winced as he stretched, feeling the pull of several bruises and bites, not to mention some very pleasurable aches in some muscles that hadn't seen much action recently. Not that he hadn't marked Sif too, he could see that even at a distance, it was just that she would be healed by the end of the day and he wouldn't. He smiled lazily. It had been an incredible night...

"You're leaving?"

"Yes. I have to. I'm not risking bumping into anyone that matters on the way back."

"Come back to bed"

Sif sighed and perched on the edge of the mattress. "Harry, you know this was just..."

"Just sex right." His sigh matched hers. "But you have to admit..." his hand slid around the back of her neck, as he kissed her, until she melted against him with a small needy moan "... you have to admit that we are _very_ good together. Now, _please_ come back to bed, and I promise to apparate you directly back into your room later. No-one will ever be any the wiser..."

Sif couldn't suppress a smile. There was something about this cocky mortal that got under her skin. And he was right. The previous night had been one of the best she could remember, and she certainly wasn't averse to the idea of staying a little longer.

After all, it was just sex – right?


	11. Chapter 11

_The readership for this story has been really fantastic - thank you so much for your support. As you will see the stories will be more spaced out time-wise now leading up to Harry's departure from Asgard in advance of the beginning of "Of Oaths and Promises._

 _I wrote this update sitting on my in law's terrace in southern Spain. It's been lovely to get away for a few days - but back to real life tomorrow :(_ _I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it... Merrick x_

* * *

 _Friends and Lovers_

The day that Hermione found out about Harry and Sif would probably go down as one of the worst that Harry could remember.

Which given his history of war death and destruction was pretty impressive really.

With hindsight – which is 20:20 vision Harry thought - letting it go on for three months without telling her was never going to end well.

Because if there was one thing that Hermione disliked even more than Sif it was being kept in the dark by the people she loved – a sentiment that he would normally have agreed with 100%. But this was Hermione, and to be completely honest, Harry, who had faced down dragons, dementors, Voldemort and even Sif in a really bad mood, would rather face all four together than really piss off Hermione. Because Hermione in a temper. She was scary.

Ok. So snatching a heated moment with Sif, just around the corner from the training grounds was a risk. But he and Sif had been sparring on and off all morning, and there was something about all that leather and sweat and adrenaline that gave him ideas. Her too if the enthusiastic way that she was wrapped around him was anything to go by. They were out of sight of the palace balconies, and no-one came down to this area much anyway…

Unfortunately he had counted without an urgent message coming in for Loki, and Hermione's being at a loose end and deciding to deliver it herself.

He might still have got away with it if Hermione hadn't seen Fandrall, charm batteries fully charged oozing towards her, and, not being the mood for his flirtation, deciding to take an obscure short cut back to the library and almost crashed straight into them.

Harry had been blissfully oblivious to the looming explosion – their intimate position having expelled pretty much every coherent thought from his head, had he not tilted his head to allow Sif's teeth better access to a particularly sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulders to find himself looking into a pair of familiar – and furious brown eyes...

To be fair, Sif had her back to Hermione and her head buried in Harry's neck, so her identity wasn't immediately apparent. But only one woman could be found in this area at this time, dressed in training gear…

And the pink teddy tattooed on Sif's shoulder (an odd choice Harry had thought – he had never persuaded Sif to tell him how she came by it) was pretty distinctive.

 _Two more minutes._ Harry thought…. _Two more minutes and he would have apparated them out of there. Two more minutes and they would have been safe in the privacy of his room…_

 _Shit! What was that expression he had heard from that short American friend of Thor's?_

 _Cockblocked – and by his best friend too…._

By now, Sif had apparently become aware that Harry had lost interest in the proceedings, and was looking less than pleased herself, until she followed his "rabbit in the headlights" stare.

" _Princess Hermione"_ she snarled. "Could you not arrange to be _somewhere – anywhere else_ right now? As you can see, we're a little busy…"

Hermione had only been a princess of Asgard for nine months, but she had the stare right down thought Harry. She drew herself up to her full five feet five and gave Sif a glare that would have reduced anyone else – himself included – to a pool of nasty smelling goo.

" _Lady_ Sif. I would have words with Harry in private if you please." When Sif showed a distinct reluctance to leave, she ratcheted the glare up several more points, and with an icy tone worthy of her husband on a _really_ bad day announced "You are dismissed."

Without even an incantation Hermione's wand simply materialised in her right hand – a neat trick thought Harry, he'd have to get her to show him how it was done, when she wasn't mad enough to kill him. But the implications were clear and right now he needed to defuse this situation before it exploded in his face.

Sighing regretfully he turned Sif away, pausing for a single kiss, which was no substitute for where he should be right now… "Sif. Why don't you go and change, and I'll come and find you ok. I won't be long. Hermione and I need to clear this up"

 _He was going to regret this however it turned out_ he thought ruefully as he watched Sif stalk furiously away, trying very hard not to remember that they should be upstairs and getting naked by now.

Consequently, he was not in the best of moods when he turned back to Hermione.

"Yeah. Thanks for that Hermione. Great timing. And seriously. Could you not've just walked away and we could've discussed it later?"

Hermione's eyebrows had nearly disappeared into her hairline. "Seriously Harry! Sif! Of all people to screw up against a wall why did it have to be her? I knew you had a passing fancy for her a while back but I thought you'd come to your senses… Could you not have found an obliging serving maid? Or heaven knows there are enough taverns in the city…."

"ENOUGH!" Harry roared, furious now. To be fair his relationship with Sif was still frustratingly in the "friends with benefits" zone, but that didn't justify any of Hermione's assumptions. "Believe it or not Hermione you are not my mother. I am a grown man and can have a relationship with whomever I damn well please."

Hermione had paled visibly at the mention of the word 'relationship'. "Harry. This wasn't just a quickie up against the wall was it? How long has this been going on?"

Harry closed his eyes and sighed preparing for the inevitable explosion. "Three months. Or thereabouts."

Hermione's eyes went swiftly from furious to positively hurt. "Three _months"_ she gasped. You do know who it is that you're sleeping with? Sif is poison. She's never lost an opportunity to stab Loki in the back for centuries. And gods know she's no friend to me either."

"Do you think I'm not very well aware of the situation between her and Loki Hermione? Do you think that I'm not doing everything I can to set things right between them? I love Loki – I do. He's the big brother I wanted my whole life, but he doesn't govern who I'm friends with and he especially doesn't dictate who I sleep with; not that I think he'd want to…"

Both friends voices were rising as their anger and frustration increased. Hermione's hand was clenched around her wand, knuckles white. "It's not about dictating Harry, not about Loki controlling. It's about loyalty. It's about not breaking faith with the people you love…."

Harry had gone very still. "Is that what you're accusing me of Hermione? Truly? Of betraying Loki? Of betraying you? I would think that you and Loki of all people would understand that people are capable of changing, of making mistakes and moving on. After all he did have aspirations as a mass murdering megalomaniac. But he is allowed to change, and Sif can't is that right?"

" _Don't_ bring Loki's past into this, it has nothing to do with you and _that woman._ Has she told you how she came by that tattoo on her shoulder?" Harry shook his head. "She warned me off. Loki had just proposed. It hadn't even been announced yet and…."

Their voices must have carried much further than they thought. Hermione started as Thor's hand descended on her shoulder silencing her abruptly.

"Enough Hermione." There was no anger in Thor's voice, only a weary affection for them both. "If you do not wish Loki's past brought into this, you have no right to drag up Sif's every misdemeanour. While she is far from being without fault in this matter, even my brother would admit that the scales would tip heavily to his side. Is that not so brother?"

Harry turned guiltily to see Loki come running around the corner behind him in response to an urgent summons from Thor. "Harry, Hermione what _is_ this? It is not like you two to fight, and especially not so publicly"

Hermione darted forward, hands clutching her husband's shirt urgently. "Loki. Harry and Sif are… well… are involved."

Realisation dawned on Loki's face. He smiled at Harry over his wife's head. "Little brother it appears you have been most indiscrete and now all of Hel has broken lose." Gently releasing Hermione's hands he tucked one of them through his arm, and drew her away. "Walk with me a while my love. Thor. I leave you in charge of Harry here."

As Loki and Hermione disappeared around the corner, Harry collapsed onto a nearby step, suddenly aware that his knees were shaking. He looked up at the King of Asgard, who was regarding him with wry amusement.

"I'd rather face a dozen rampaging giants than one furious Hermione. All she has to do is glare at me and I feel about fourteen again. Am I in trouble?" All things being equal Harry wished his voice hadn't sounded so – small - young.

Thor sat down beside him, dropping a distinctly big-brotherly arm around his shoulder. It was hard for Harry to remember that this young warrior beside him, blonde hair tousled and face grimy from a bout this morning, muscled arms resting on his knees was the King of Asgard and Protector of the Nine Realms. He shook his head, smiling. "In trouble with me Harry – no. Although for future reference I would prefer that your quarrels and your liaisons take place more privately, but on both of these counts I have no right to scold you at all, having caused far more trouble myself in my youth. But in trouble with my sister. I'm afraid the answer must be yes, you are in considerable trouble, and I do not envy you this, for she is a formidable woman that I would hesitate to cross myself if it could be at all avoided. And from the Lady Sif's absence, I would assume that either she has stormed off in a fury, or you have persuaded her to leave the field. In either case I do not envy your position _at all…"_

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "Can I run back to Earth with my tail between my legs do you think?"

Thor roared with laughter, gripping the back of Harry's neck in a way that made the pit of Harry's stomach clench. He loved having these two amazing men treat him like a brother. It was something he didn't think that he would ever learn to take for granted. "Alas little brother. It is not your _tail_ between your legs that has got you into all this trouble. Loki will be with Hermione for a while I suspect, so I would go to your lady and smooth things over. Lady Sif does not care to be kept waiting and you will have much to atone for.

And the longer Hermione has to cool down the better it will be for you..."

 _oo0oo_

When Harry emerged from his room some hours later he found Hermione sitting on the floor outside his door.

"Is everything alright?" Her voice was uncharacteristically small.

Harry looked down at her, considering for a moment before extending his hand abruptly to pull her to her feet. As she rose, straightening her skirts, he jerked his head, conscious of Sif, still in his room, and probably listening at the door.. "Come on…"

They walked the maze of corridors which had become dearly familiar to them both by now, descending to the gardens. When Hermione led the way into Frigga's personal garden, Harry hesitated for a moment. Hermione smiled briefly. "It's OK Harry, we're family, we can come and go as we please, and Frigga is gossiping to Eir at the moment so we won't be disturbed."

Harry sat down beside her on the steps looking over the pond, and remembered a warm summer evening when the shadows had been scented with flowers, and he had been watching her from the balcony above.

"You sat down here on the night of your wedding…"

Hermione frowned for a moment, caught out by the _non sequiteur._ "That's right. A draft of a treaty arrived from the ambassador of Muspelheim that couldn't wait. It was quite nice, having a moment to catch my breath after all the excitement." She realised what he had said, and frowned in confusion. "How did you…?"

Harry jerked his head upwards. "You weren't the only one taking a breath after all the excitement. I was standing up there for a while… I was worried…. It seemed odd that you were sitting on your own – on your wedding night of all nights. I wasn't spying… when Loki came out and it was obvious that everything was fine I left you to it…"

He paused, watching the weak afternoon sunlight of early spring playing on the water. "I remember thinking that I want that…"

Hermione had a small crease of confusion between her brows. "Want what?"

Harry's eyes never left the water. "I want what you two have"

Hermione was silent for a moment, thinking. When she replied her voice was small, anxious. "Do you love her?"

Harry shook his head ruefully… "Honestly… I don't know. I think I probably do - probably could love her, but it's not what she wants at the moment." He sighed heavily. " I believe that the modern muggle description of our relationship is 'friends with benefits'".

The two friends were silent for a moment, allowing the tension between them to slowly unravel into the cool still air.

"I've had a long talk with Loki this afternoon." Hermione shook her head, still a little bewildered. "He didn't know definitely what was going on, but he had his suspicions. Odd that he's so laid back about it. I would've expected him to be furious but…"

"I talked to Sif you know. She told me what she said that first time you visited Asgard, and what you did." He chuckled under his breath. "What was it Ron said. 'You're brilliant you know. Brilliant – but scary'"

Hermione laughed, remembering a long ago moment in Gryffindor tower, with poor Neville Longbottom petrified at their feet… "Poor Neville…"

"She shouldn't have said what she did…" Harry continued, "and I think to a certain extent she regrets it – especially the Frost Giant stuff which was completely out of order. The bad blood between her and Loki goes back a very long way and there are serious faults on both sides – I really hope that one day it can all be mended, but I'm not sure how. But she does respect your loyalty, strength, even though she sometimes feels it's misplaced…"

Hermione drew her cloak around her, for the short day was coming to a close, and the temperature was dropping rapidly. "I'll be honest with you Harry, I wish you'd chosen someone else, but the heart wants what the heart wants…" she saw Harry's sudden smile "…what?"

"That's exactly what Loki said to me. You two scare me sometimes…"

Hermione rose to her feet, Harry following. "I'm sorry Harry. Sorry for assuming all the wrong things about your relationship with Sif. Sorry for laying into you like that."

"You've always been ferociously protective of the ones you love Hermione. It's one of the things I love most about you. I just never thought that it would be turned on me… Just – in future – trust me. Please. He opened his arms and she went into them, hugging him tightly.

"I promise Harry, I do. But promise me something in return"

"Go on…"

"Don't keep me in the dark – please. As you saw today, I don't do very well with surprises."

Harry nodded, his chin on her hair. "I promise. I should have faced the music before, it would have made things much easier."

Hermione tucked her arm into Harry's as they walked through the gardens, heading for supper. "Have you made it up with Sif. She looked absolutely furious when she left."

Harry chuckled. "Well she was pretty pissed when I arrived. She shouted, I shouted back, she threw a couple of things and…"

"…and"

Harry's smile was wicked. "Well you know the best thing about arguments… fantastic make up sex…"

" _Harry Potter. Far too much information….."_


	12. Chapter 12

_Hello to you all once again, and thank you for your support._

 _Something a bit different this time. Definitely a two shot, may even be three – I'm making this one up as I go along._ _As always, please let me know what you think. All feedback is very gratefully received_

 _For the record, I do not have any claim on either JKR's or Marvel's characters, and do this solely for my, and your entertainment._

* * *

 _The King's Commission – Part One._

 _How had this gone so wrong_? Harry thought woozily

The pain in his side was excruciating, and the wet rattle of his laboured breathing indicated that the blade currently embedded between his ribs had probably punctured a lung...

He reached for his magic, but he had already expended too much, in energy and in blood lost. What little was left was probably keeping him alive.

Sif's face was cold and set as she desperately tried to stop the bleeding, eyes studiously avoiding Harry's. A little further away, Volstagg and Fandral, with three men at arms, were checking their perimeter. Hogun had slid away to scout their position.

More than a day's journey from Asgard, and all sources of healing – this was bad - this was very very bad...

 _ooo0ooo_

 _The Throne Room of Asgard – one week earlier._

"Sire. I come to beg your aid for my village"

Thor's blue eyes rested mildly on the kneeling figure before him. A well looking man in the prime of his life, with a shock of pale hair, and straightforward steel grey eyes in an honest, homely face. He had clearly dressed with care, in his best clothes, to bring his petition to his King, and Thor would not turn him away, in spite of the fact that he and Loki had been dealing with similar petitioners all morning, and it was now past the lunch hour.

"What is your name my friend?"

"I am Magnus, son of Rad, and my village lies two days journey west of Asgard Sire. It is a simple place, but the folk are honest and hard working."

Thor gestured for him to rise; he was no Odin to keep a man on his knees for longer than he had to. "And how can Asgard help you and your village, Magnus Radsson?"

Radsson paused for a moment before telling his tale. "Our troubles began just after the Spring Festival Sire. At first we put it down to children's foolishness, but then the elder folk also began to tell the same tales."

"Go on..."

"Dark figures Sire. Evil spirits we believed. The local wise woman, she gave us charms and blessings for protection, but then the first child was taken..."

Thor stilled, his brow lowering. With the recent birth of his sons, Bjarte and Brandt, anything relating to children suddenly had increased significance. "Your children have been taken?"

"Three now Sire. Two boys, and one girl." Radsson's face crumpled momentarily. "M... my daughter, Arla. Her mother is distraught Sire. And the others in the village with children are greatly afraid, some are even saying that the village is cursed, and that our only hope is to leave." The grey eyes were direct, but pleading. "Please Sire, can you help us."

Thor pondered for a moment, then turned. "Lord Loki. I believe a deputation is in order"

His brother nodded. "I agree Sire. It may be that there is a non magical cause for these troubles, but to be certain I believe that it would be wise to send someone with experience of magic. I would go myself, but with the ambassadors of the Nine Realms arriving in three days, I fear that I will be needed here."

Thor nodded, and made a decision.

"Lord Harry"

Harry had been lounging against a pillar at the edge of the room quietly chatting to Dalan. He was actually waiting for Loki, as they had arranged to go riding that afternoon, but clearly that was all likely to change. Threading his way through the crowds, he bowed low before the throne, hand on his sword hilt. No one seeing him for the first time would have guessed that he was not born and bred Aesir.

"Sire?"

"Ah, Harry. I have a job for you. Will you take an escort and accompany Magnus son of Rad back to his village, and, with my commission, investigate these events. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif can ride as escort. Dalan, could you also furnish three further men at arms."

Thor had asked Harry to deal with a number of minor issues within the city before, but this was the first time that he had been asked to carry the King's commission to the surrounding countryside. He bowed low once more. "It will be my honour Sire"

Harry was aware of Radsson's eyes sizing him up carefully. A cautious man, clearly, but from what he had seen so far, Harry was inclined to believe him as honest as he appeared. And genuinely grief stricken at the loss of his daughter. Harry silently promised himself that he would see their children restored to them – so long as they lived, he thought with a chill of foreboding.

Thor was addressing Radsson once more, inviting him to take rest and refreshment overnight, and to be ready to depart after breakfast the following morning. Did he have a horse, Thor was asking. When Radsson answered in the negative, a horse was commanded. It would not do to have the man unable to keep pace with the King's Commissioner after all.

With a further bow, Harry returned to his rooms to make preparations for the following day's journey. He was busy shrinking clothing to fit more easily into his saddlebags when a knock came at his door.

"Come in." Harry smiled seeing Loki's head around the door.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Only a little light packing, since you and Thor seem to have need of my investigative services."

Loki looked a little uncomfortable. "Yes. I'm sorry about putting you on the spot like that. I hope we didn't interrupt anything."

"Other than our outing this afternoon, you got me out of helping Hermione restock her potions cupboard tomorrow, so I suppose I owe you a favour."

"Plus I got you a romantic few days in the lovely Asgardian hills with Lady Sif. Better make that two favours little brother." Loki's smile was positively wicked. "But seriously Harry..." he sprawled comfortably on the bed, flicking idly through a book of spells from Harry's bedside "... be careful"

Harry put down the clean shirt he was trying to coax into a saddle bag and looked upon little startled. "What is it...?"

Loki shook his head ruefully. "Honestly Harry, I don't know. I just know that something is... what is that strange Midgardian expression... something makes my thumbs prickle..."

" _By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes..."_ murmured Harry.

Harry moved a folded cloak to one side and sat at the foot of the bed, leaning comfortably back against the curtained bedpost behind him. "You think it's magic?"

Loki shrugged. "Difficult to say. Dark wraiths have been known to steal babies – but children? Do we know how old they are? I got the feeling that they weren't infants."

Harry shook his head "I haven't had a chance to ask. I'll have two day's riding beside him – plenty of time to find out the facts. What does your gut tell you?"

"That this is criminal not supernatural ... and that you need to watch your back little brother. Resist your usual temptation to go wandering off alone and keep the others close."

Harry smiled... "I'll be careful"

Loki still looked worried. "Maybe I should come with you..."

Harry rose, shaking his head. "Relax brother. I may not have your vast aeons of experience, but I saw my fair share of action in London. I'll be fine. And beside. In his current sleep deprived state Thor could have the Nine Realms at war by the time we got home"

Loki shuddered at the idea of his big brother let loose with the most important diplomats on Yggdrasil and was forced to agree. Reluctantly he put the book down and stood up. "Just be careful Harry. Please..."

Harry gave up on packing and clapped Loki on the shoulder. "Come on, if we hurry there's still time for a ride before supper. I can finish this before bed."

Loki shrugged off his worries and, smiling, followed Harry down to the stable.

 _ooo0ooo_

The following morning Harry said a private goodbye to Thor and Loki, leaving laden with brotherly advice, before descending the steps of the Throne Room to join Radsson and his escort. He paused for a moment to exchange words with Volstagg, and Sif, who was tightening the girth on her saddle, cursing under her breath as her black mare moved restlessly across the cobbles. As was his habit by then, Harry bent to give her a leg up into the saddle. When he rested a hand briefly on her leg, she scowled down at him.

"This is the King's commission _Lord Harry._ Not a romantic getaway. Behave yourself..."

Harry smiled up at her, thumb rubbing distracting little circles on her thigh. "Can I see you tonight?"

"I will be sleeping with the others, while you will be housed in the best accommodation the village can offer... I doubt we'll have the chance."

Harry pouted – Sif's expression softened perceptibly. "Well...possibly..."

His broad smile faded into something distinctly more businesslike as he swung into the saddle. "Good morning Magnus Radsson. Did you have a comfortable night?"

Radsson bowed his head respectfully. "I thank you my Lord, yes. I was very well tended."

Just as they were about to leave, a voice was heard from the top of the steps. "Harry!"

Harry turned, halting his horse. Hermione came hurrying down the steps, coming to a halt by his mount's shoulder, her hand on its neck. "I'm sorry Harry, I was with Jane and the babies and didn't realise the time. I'm glad I caught you. You promise you'll be careful..."

Harry smiled. "You've been listening to that husband of yours haven't you? He's been through so much he sees trouble lurking around every corner." He leaned down to put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be fine Hermione. Don't let Loki get too stressed, and I'll see you in a few days. Be good..."

With a wave of his hand he urged his horse forward as the group left the palace courtyard.

 _ooo0ooo_

Radsson, mounted on a stocky iron grey cob on loan from the guards' stock led the way through the city to the Western Gate. Once they were clear of the city Harry was finally able to obtain more information on the mystery facing him.

"Three times My Lord. Three times we saw the dark ones before the first child disappeared. A promising lad, just twelve summers old was taken first. His mother is a widow, her man died fighting with the Allfather when he was still a boy – before his crowning. Rebels on Alfheim as I remember.

"I presume he was taken in the night."

"Indeed My Lord. He and his mother sat up late. Keeping watch for the dark ones. Eventually they both fell asleep in front of the fire. When she awoke he was gone and the front door wide open, when it'd been stoutly barred before they fell asleep. We searched and searched My Lord, but we found nothing."

Harry shook his head. "And the others?"

"A second boy, two weeks later. We hadn't seen the dark ones for several days, and we were beginning to hope that the worst was over. Then another one. Only eight summers this boy. None too strong, but a fine bright lad with a promising future ahead've him. Went to bed same as always, but when he didn't come to break his fast in the morning, his father went to find him. Found the window open and the boy gone. No sign of a struggle. Just gone."

"How big was the window?"

Radsson started. "Well I never properly thought about that My Lord. Not a big window – big enough for the lad to pass through, but a grown man would've struggled. Made a row too I'd be bound."

Harry pondered for a moment. "And the third – your daughter you say."

Radsson's weathered face was bleak. "Aye My Lord. My Arla. Just nine summers she was and the sweetest sunniest little maid you ever did see. Our youngest."

"Taken in the night again"

"Nay My Lord. That's the strange thing. She was picking some early herbs for her mother at the back of the cottage. We heard nothing, but when her mother went to find her she just found her little basket."

"Taken in daytime. That _is_ strange. And no sign of a struggle, nothing unusual at all."

"No My Lord"

Harry was silent for a while, pushing the pace to arrive at a small copse of trees in time for lunch.

As they sat beneath the trees, eating bread and cheese and fruit, Harry pondered the stolen children.

"You have other children Marcus Radsson?"

"We do My Lord, another lass, a grown woman now, and married to a good man. And a lad nearing manhood. He's a good strong lad, I want him to take the farm from me when the time comes. Find himself a good woman and give us a brood of grandchildren..."

Harry smiled. "... but he has other ideas?"

Radsson nodded ruefully. "He does My Lord. He dreams of taking service with the Allfather. Of travel and adventure among the Nine. I'll never make a farmer of him. I know that. Arla was my youngest, born when we thought my wife beyond the age of bearing children, and the apple of my eye. Now she's gone, and the better part of my heart with her. I pray..." His voice wobbled ominously. "... I pray to the Gods that wherever she is she is safe, and not ill treated." He turned away, trying to get a grip on his emotions.

Harry reached out and gripped his arm. "We will do all that we can my friend. You have my word that we will do all that we can to bring your daughter, and the other children back to you.

 _ooo0ooo_

A long afternoon in the saddle brought them to a small manor house, who were happy to offer a night's board and lodgings to one carrying the King's Commission. Harry was given a comfortable room in the main house, while the others were distributed in smaller chambers around the lesser buildings. They dined in the main hall, Harry seated in the place of honour at his host's right hand, Sif to his left. The others were found places down the other tables.

The food was good and the mead and beer plentiful. Mindful of his previous experience with Asgardian alcohol Harry ate heartily, but drank only frugally. After the meal was finished, musicians were called for – clearly the Lord's particular pleasure. After an hour or so the heat in the hall and the musicians were starting to give Harry a headache, so making his excuses he slipped quietly from the back of the hall. Crossing the muddy courtyard, so different from the gleaming stonework at the palace, climbed the walls to the battlements. From here, given the manor's position in the hills, he could just see the shimmering lights of Asgard in the far distance.

The subtle scent of vanilla and ginger, was all that alerted him...

"Lady Sif"

"How did you know it was me." She leaned her head against his shoulder, allowing him to drop a kiss onto her hair.

Harry smiled. "Vanilla and ginger. Your hair always smells of it. Not something you smell very often in a farmyard like this."

She nudged him in the ribs, chuckling. "You've risen too high for such mundane things as a little honest muck."

Harry looked back at the lights of Asgard. "I've come a long way."

She had been about to tease him about the effects of a single day in the saddle, but seeing his expression realised that he was speaking of much greater distances. "Yes, you have. You, and the Princess Hermione. I've never seen Midgardians adjust to our ways so easily. Looking at you today, no one would ever know that you weren't born here."

"It's being a wizard I suppose. It's a better preparation for life here than modern muggle Earth"

"Muggle?"

"What wizards call non magical folk"

"Like me"

Harry smiled, resting his cheek against her hair. "Oh no. You have a magic all your own."

She frowned a little, as she always did when his words became too close to love. "Harry..."

But Harry had had enough of words. Burying his hands in her hair he pulled her against him, kissing her gently, and unhurried, allowing the heat to build between them until they grew careless of time and place. Resting his cheek on her hair, he could feel her heart pounding against his. "Sif?"

"Mmm hmm"

"Your place or mine?"

She chuckled, remembering the same words in a corridor months ago. "Yours, you have the bigger bed I believe."

"Hold on tight..."

* * *

 _Part Two to follow at the weekend_

 _Merrick x_


	13. Chapter 13

_The reaction to my last update was incredible. Seriously, my stats just went bonkers. I can't begin to tell you how amazed and pleased I am at the reaction. Obviously this must have kick started my inspiration, because rather earlier than expected, here is part two. And yes. There will definitely be a part three..._

 _The plot is thickening and lives are at stake. Enjoy._

 _Merrick_

* * *

 _The King's Commission – Part Two._

Mid afternoon on the second day the small party drew reign on the brow of a hill to gaze down into a secluded valley. A small river, surrounded by fields and trees wound through, and nestled into a curve in that river was a village.

Harry looked over at Radsson and smiled. "An idyllic spot my friend."

Radsson returned his smile. "Indeed, although in a hard winter we may be cut off from the rest of the realm for weeks at a time. But a fair spot for the rest of the year."

As he went to urge his horse forward Harry put out a hand to stop him. "A moment. Before we move on, can you indicate the important sites in this mystery. Where the figures were seen, the houses the children were taken from..."

It appeared to Harry that the dark figures had been seen in a number of random locations around the village, while the first boy had been taken from a small single storey cottage on the village square and the second from a larger two storey house towards the edge of the village. Radsson's house was significantly larger, and stood separately, surrounded by a number of outbuildings. As they rode down the hill, Harry pondered the matter further.

"How many more children are there? I don't see any, but under the circumstances that is hardly surprising."

"There are four more children in the village. Two are barely more than babes in arms. Another boy, like my son, is nearing manhood, and the fourth is a girl, a little older than my Arla, but she has been confined to her bed the last week or so with a fever."

Harry frowned. "How is she now?"

Radsson shrugged. "I have not seen her My Lord, but I would expect her to be recovered by now. Although her sickness was doubtless unpleasant, I do not believe that she was ever in danger, and children heal faster than their elders."

"Then I believe that we need to visit her home first. It is possible that whoever took your children may be waiting for her."

"Why her My Lord? What of the other three?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully, conscious of Fandral and Sif also listening carefully. "There are still some things about this case which do not make sense – why your daughter was taken in broad daylight rather than at night; how the second boy was abducted through a window too small to admit a grown man for instance. But it seems to me that whoever is doing this is looking for children – not infants, who require too much care – but not old enough, or strong enough to put up a fight – your son and the other boy for example. If we are to lay a trap, by a process of elimination, this young" girl will be the most likely target..."

 _ooo0ooo_

For such an attractive village, the atmosphere as the party rode into the square, was oppressive.

"Fear hangs over this place like a thundercloud" muttered Fandral. "It may be that the locals will not all be as friendly as our guide here."

"I agree" nodded Sif, turning around to include the rest of the party. "Watch your backs – and try to stay together as much as possible"

Harry had stopped to examine a magnificent oak tree in the centre of the square, who's branches were adorned with wilting ribbons. "The Spring Festival My Lord". Harry looked around to see Radsson beside him.

"You say that this all started shortly after the Spring Festival?"

"That's right."

"Hmm". Something stirring in Harry's mind was telling him that this was significant, although for the life of him couldn't quite see how. Instead he mentally filed it away for further consideration later.

"Trouble" muttered Fandral.

Harry looked up, to see a group of men advancing towards them, cudgels in hand. He turned back to Radsson with a smile. "You may wish to reassure your neighbours friend. The King would take it ill if things turn ugly..."

Alarm flared in Radsson's eyes, and he dismounted from his horse to make himself known to the group of men.

"To be fair, they may not have recognised him – surrounded as he is by strangers, and mounted on an unfamiliar horse. Under the circumstances their suspicions are not unreasonable." Sif had pulled her mount alongside Harry's to allow them to speak privately.

"Oh I agree" he murmured, tilting his head in response. "But it won't do to be seen to condone that sort of behaviour. I am the King's representative after all. Besides, a show of authority now may save us trouble in the future."

Sif shot him a look of reluctant approval. "You've been spending too much time with Loki my friend. He's turning you into a politician."

Harry winced. "Friend" may be a slight understatement for their relationship, but it still felt as though he was being put in his place. "This may be a difficult thing to believe Sif, but at home on Earth I am "The Boy Who Lived" and "The Saviour of the Wizarding World" among other taglines. I've had plenty of experience with politics and manipulation - more than I could ever need if the truth be told. I've learned a little from Loki, but not much." Maybe his tone was a little more waspish than he had intended, given Sif's look of surprise but it made him feel better.

Radsson returned with the party of men behind him. A tall, heavily built man shouldered his way to the front, eyeing Harry from under heavy eyebrows. He appeared to have been elected leader of the group. Assessing them, Harry decided that the best option would be to say nothing. Drawing himself up to his full height he gazed impassively down at the group before him. Sif suppressed a chuckle. At that moment – dressed in Thor's red and gold or no, the resemblance to Loki was even more startling than usual. He even had the arrogant tilt of his head to a T.

Recollecting himself, the leader bowed stiffly. "My Lord. Magnus son of Rad informs me that you carry the King's Commission."

Harry raised a single eyebrow and with a nicely judged air of reluctance produced his credentials from the satchel he carried, for inspection.

The heavily built man frowned over the flowing script, but it was clear that he was able to read it, albeit slowly. Having scrutinised the royal seal at the bottom of the document, he carefully refolded the heavy paper and handed it carefully back to Harry, bowing deeply as he did so.

"My Lord Harry, you are most welcome to our village. I am Han son of Haldor, the smith for the village. Magnus is my brother in law, making the lass that was taken my niece. You have my word that the people of this village will help you in any way that they can."

Harry nodded courteously. "I thank you for your welcome Han Haldorsson, and for your cooperation. You have _my_ word that we do not come to bring trouble to your village, but to assist in any way we can, in the King's name to rid you of this evil that besets you. May I introduce The Lady Sif and the Lords Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun, all of whom are shield brothers to the King himself." Harry wasn't sure whether shield brother was a term Sif would appreciate or not, but he wasn't certain how else to describe her. A quick glance sideways did not indicate any signs of trouble which was reassuring.

"May we escort you to your lodgings my Lord?"

Harry smiled. "I thank you no, I am greatly troubled in my mind for a young girl that may still be in peril from this evil, we should see to her safety first. Magnuss Radsson, will you lead the way?"

Haldorsson paled. "You believe them to be devils sent to plague us My Lord?"

Harry shook his head firmly as he dismounted, handing his horse on to one of the men at arms. "No. I believe that there are men behind this. Evil men, who may or may not have some knowledge of magic. But men nonetheless."

One of the other men looked sceptical. "But what of the dark figures my Lord. To be sure they are dark spirits that come in the night to steal our children."

Thanking his lucky stars for his conversation with Loki, Harry was able to shake his head with great conviction. "No..." he looked at the man – eyebrows raised.

"Nod son of Hod sire. I'm naught but a labourer". He gave an uncomfortable shuffle at one of his lowly status addressing the King's representative.

"Still a most essential occupation" said Harry kindly, "but, Nod Hodsson, you are misinformed. Dark spirits have indeed been known to steal away children, but only infants, never as old as those taken from you, and certainly not in broad daylight. No, what you have here is mortal evil, not supernatural. That I am sure of. I am not certain of it yet, but it is my belief that the dark forms that you see are no more than a conjuring trick, smoke and mirrors, to discourage villagers from wandering the streets after dark, and possibly seeing something that they shouldn't...

 _ooo0ooo_

The young girl's home was a poor place, in a narrow backstreet, but it was scrupulously clean, and the garden at the front was carefully tended. A knock at the door was answered by a tall slender fair haired woman with a tired face and work worn hands, who's eyes widened apprehensively at the sight of Harry and his party.

Stepping neatly around his escort Harry took the woman's elbow and took her gently to one side, before asking everyone else to wait for him outside. The house was tiny, and there was no need to overwhelm the poor woman any more than necessary. "Good afternoon Mistress. My name is Harry Jamesson, and I am here to investigate the troubles that have fallen to your village recently. Might I speak with you please?"

The woman bobbed a nervous curtsey and stepped back to allow him to come in, ushering him through to a spotlessly clean kitchen.

"May I offer you some ale My Lord?"

Harry smiled. "That would be wonderful, thank you. Is your husband at home Mistress?"

She put a rough tankard of ale before him, nodding nervously before bustling out to the back garden. The man that entered was tall and slender like his wife, but with a shock of red gold hair which reminded Harry irresistibly of Dalan.

Rising to meet him, Harry gave the same brief introduction, waiting courteously while the man washed his hands.

"You are welcome to our home My Lord. I am Karl Karlsson, and this is Ana my wife.

Introductions having been made, the three sat around the table, Harry took a cautious sip of the ale, which was excellent.

"I am sorry to bring trouble to your house, but I have to ask. Is your daughter here?"

Ana looked nervous. "She is My Lord. She is upstairs with some sewing at the moment – shall I call her down?"

Harry shook his head, and quickly explained his theory to the girl's horrified parents.

Karlsson put a protective arm around his shaking wife. "What can we do My Lord? How can we stop this?

Harry took a small bottle out of his satchel and placed it on the table. "I propose that we let them take her." As Karlsson leapt to his feet, Harry put out a placating hand. "Sit down my friend. Trust me that your daughter will be perfectly safe." The man sat, with a black frown at Harry. "I'm sorry. I phrased that badly. Let me explain. This is a little mixture called polyjuice potion. Now when I first came across this noxious brew its effects only lasted for an hour. This is an enhanced version created by a very good friend of mine, which will last for six hours."

"I'm sorry My Lord... I don't understand"

"Using this potion, I am going to allow them to abduct me. It is the only way I can think of to not only keep your daughter safe but to find and save the children that have been taken. All you need to do is allow us to use your home for the trap."

"Are you sure My Lord. You will be putting yourself at grave risk."

"I'm sure"

 _ooo0ooo_

"No. Absolutely not. No!"

Harry had suspected that Sif would take this badly and he wasn't wrong. "Sif. This is the only way to do this. I will take the potion. They can take me, and you can follow me. That way we can find the missing children too. This isn't just a matter of protecting one child. We have to catch the people doing this and save the other three."

"Do you have a thing for saving people by any chance?"

Harry shrugged. "I would say no – but I have to admit that it's been said before..."

Sif flung herself into one of Magnus Radsson's kitchen chairs. "I'll take the potion. It's what I've been trained for my whole life. That way you can put a tracking spell on me. It will be easy."

"No it won't." Harry's voice was flat. "We haven't tested the potion on an Aesir. There's no way of telling how it will work. It is supposed to last for six hours. On you it may last that. Or it may change you back after an hour. Or it may never change you back at all."

Sif was silent, biting her bottom lip. It was her habit when she was anxious Harry knew. Ignoring the others, seated around the table, Harry reached over to take her hand in his.

"Sif, I will be fine. I'll have my wand, and four of the finest warriors in the Nine Realms to protect me."

She sighed, blue eyes meeting green. "Is there _anything_ I could say to make you change your mind."

"No."

"I thought not. Very well. How is this going to work."

Harry leaned forward. This is what we're going to do..."

 _ooo0ooo_

That night Dana Karlsdottir spent the night curled up snug and safe between her parents, while a strange wizard – with her face – pretended to sleep in the tiny bedroom next to them, under the eaves. Sif, Volstagg and two of the men at arms were placed strategically in and around the house.

Nothing happened.

Tired and disappointed, Harry, Sif, the Warriors Three and a contingent from the village gathered around Magnus Radsson's table once more. Harry wishing desperately that he'd thought to bring coffee with him, because right now he was prepared to kill for a cup...

"Maybe they have already left and taken our children with them. Maybe we were too late."

"No" said Harry, a little more sharply than he intended. "No, they are here. I can feel them watching." He thought hard for a moment. "We need more information. We need to talk to the ones who saw the figures and the parents of the missing children. I need to know everything about them, and what happened on the day they were abducted – even the most trivial fact may be important." He rose from table "Let's go"

Sif rose, putting a firm hand on his arm. "Oh no you don't Harry. You've been awake all night, like Volstagg and I. Hogun, Fandral, can you go with the others and see what you can find out. We'll see you later and see what we can come up with." Ushering them out of the door, she turned back to glare at Harry who was about to protest. "Don't argue Harry please. You don't have our tolerance for tiredness, and even Volstagg and I will be sleeping this morning."

Any attempts at rebellion were ruined by an enormous yawn. Twenty four hours without sleep was taking its toll. Giving up, he staggered wearily up the stairs to the room that had been allocated to him.

Fifteen minutes later, Sif slipped quietly into Harry's room, to check that he hadn't made a quick getaway out of a window. Smiling she saw him sprawled, still fully dressed, across the bed. She should really go to the room allocated to her, but the temptation to curl up next to him, to go to sleep listening to the sound of his breathing, to maybe wake up in his arms was too great. Sif slid onto the other side of Harry's bed, carefully nudging a stray leg out of the way, tucking herself against him. Only minutes later she was also fast asleep.

 _ooo0ooo_

Harry woke to find his arms delightfully full of Sif, his face buried in her hair, her arm draped across his chest. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was, until, looking around the room, memory returned. Sitting up, he realised that it was the sound of voices downstairs which had roused him. Moments later he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs.

"Harry, Harry, you must wake up. We have discovered something." With a crash, Harry's door flew open, revealing Fandral in the doorway.

Sif flew off the bed, ignoring the stunned expression on Fandral's face at her unexpected presence. Halfway down the stairs she and Harry turned back, realising that he was still standing in the bedroom door with his mouth open.

"Fandrall! What are you doing. We waste time. Come on."

They reassembled around the table, Fandral looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

"Where they slept. It has to be."

Harry tried to clear the fog of sleep out of his brain. "Wait.. what?"

"The first child – the first boy. He was asleep on the ground floor."

"Yes. We still don't know how they got in."

Hogun pushed a small pot over the table at Harry. "Do you know what that is. The widow found it in her fireplace and thought it strange..."

Harry peered into the pot cautiously. There was something about the shimmering greeny/silver ash. Taking a cautious sniff he looked up smiling.

"Go on"

"Sopophorous Bean and Asphodel. The sneaky... They're two ingredients of the Draft of Living Death, the most powerful sleeping potion ever made. I don't think it's brewed on Asgard, but the properties of these two ingredients would be known to anyone with the most rudimentary knowledge of magic. The house is single story isn't it? Climbing onto the roof, and dropping them down the chimney onto the warm ash would have generated fumes that would knock mother and so out if they were sitting close to the fireplace. They probably put a cloth over the chimney to prevent the fumes escaping. Then they could make as much noise as they wanted breaking in and stealing away the son. So that solves one mystery. What of the others?"

Fandral checked his notes. "The second boy slept on the ground floor, but the window was tiny. We think he may have been lured out rather than abducted." He turned to Radsson. "But that wouldn't work for your little lass would it?"

Radsson closed his eyes in disbelief. "Of course. You can't lure out a child who sleeps on the upper floor. That's why they must have coaxed her away in the daytime. But why do such a thing? What do they hope to gain"

Harry shook his head. "I am truly sorry Magnus Radsson. But it is my fear that we have a slaver on Asgard. Creeping around rural areas picking up children where they can before taking them to off-world slave markets. That is why we must catch them before they move on and... and the children are lost forever"

Beneath his weathered skin Radsson was chalk white. "Slavery. My little Arla sold to slavery. What can we do?"

Harry reached for his flask of polyjuice potion. "We get her back..."

 _ooo0ooo_

Harry yawned and sighed heavily. He had been hanging around the cottage gardens disguised as Dana Karlsdottir all afternoon. He'd read, picked flowers, eaten a couple of apples and chatted to a couple of passing neighbours. He was back under the apple tree now, book in lap, conscious of Sif, hidden by his invisibility cloak, watching from an upstairs window

Nothing.

The sun was going down, and it was getting chilly. It was time for little Dana to go inside. Beside, being trapped inside a body this small and this weak for any length of time was taking its toll. The way he was going, Harry would have spent more time as Dana over the last day, than as himself.

Harry was getting seriously worried. Had they handled this badly? They were messing about trying to trap the slavers that could be halfway across Asgard by now, with three lost frightened and confused children. Perhaps others, from other small villages like this, from an isolated farmhouse. Where else? Waifs and strays from Asgard? How long had these vermin been profiting from Asgardian children...?

Tomorrow he would need to use the last of the polyjuice potion. They _had_ to lure them out. Before they ran out of time and potion

Tomorrow little Dana would be off on an adventure.

 _ooo0ooo_

Anyone watching the house the following morning would have seen what appeared to be little Dana Karlsdottir running happily down the lane towards the fields, basket in hands. To see her, no one would believe that she had a care in the world.

She had been picking some early herbs and flowers for her mother for around an hour, when she heard a voice behind her...

"Hello Dana. Why don't you leave that and come and play with me?"

Harry / Dana turned very slowly.

Arla Magnusdottir. Healthy, alive – not a mark on her.

But the blue eyes were utterly and completely blank.

 _Imperio..._ thought Harry, his mind racing. _Surely not. But something very like it._

 _The Spring Festival..._ he wondered, out of nowhere. _Did they have a conjurer at the Spring Fair?_

The two children walked off towards a clump of trees. Hogun, hidden beneath Harry's cloak turned and signaled to the rest of the group, hiding in trees and hedgerows.

 _They're gone. The hunt is on._

* * *

 _Sorry, this chapter is a bit more wordy than the last one, thanks for sticking with it. Final part very soon. And a big plot point. We're approaching the beginning of "Of Oaths and Promises" now, so if you haven't read the "Keeping the Stars Apart" series you may want to go and have a look, as what happens after this story may not make too much sense otherwise_

 _M x_


	14. Chapter 14

_1st November - reposted - typos corrected..._

 _And here we are with part three of this particular story. Thank you so much for reading and favouriting and supporting it so amazingly. As always your feedback is really gratefully received, please please let me know what you think._

 _As always, I do not own any of JKR or Marvel's characters, and do this solely for my own (and your) pleasure. Merrick x_

* * *

 _The King's Commission – Part Three._

Harry had woken up in better situations he though blearily. Stuck in the body of a nine year old girl, slung over a kidnapper's shoulder, his head pounding and his vision spinning uncomfortably. Whatever they had used when they flung the stinking cloth over Dana's head had been far too much for this little body to tolerate. His – her stomach was churning, and Harry fought the need to be violently sick down his abductor's back. Somehow he didn't think this would help his cause any. He had no idea whether his back up was still with him or not, no idea how long he had been out, or how long he had before he turned back into his own form.

The only consolation was that he could still feel his wand tucked into Dana's soft leather boot, reassuring him that he could always fight his way out of this if he had to.

With nothing to do but wait, Harry allowed himself to doze, lulled by the movement of the man carrying him.

 _ooo0ooo_

When Harry awoke again they were heading downhill, on a steep track, following the treeline, and somewhere nearby he could hear the sound of running water. A stream probably. Harry hadn't known he was thirsty until he heard that stream – now he could think of little else. Abruptly they turned left, skirting several large rocks until they reached the mouth of a cave.

The world lurched abruptly as hard hands grabbed Harry and dumped him unceremoniously back onto his feet. Looking around he realised that there had been a second man with them, pulling Arla, behind him, her small hands bound tightly. She looked miserable, her childish face wet with tears, but her eyes were clear and conscious again.

"I'm sorry Dana. I didn't mean it. I don't know what happened. I didn't want to do it but I couldn't seem to help it." Her voice was little more than a broken whisper.

"It's alright" Harry whispered back. "We'll be alright"

From the back of the cave came footsteps as two more men emerged, and Arla gave a small whimper of fear, shrinking back against the wall of the cave, pulling Dana with her. The two men that emerged from the shadows could not have been more different, thought Harry. One was tall, heavily built, with a shaved head, and a great ragged scar running down the side of his face, pulling one corner of his mouth into a hideous leer. He was relatively well dressed, in leather trousers, and a heavy leather jerkin with a long dark cloak over the top. From the deference shown by Harry's abductors he appeared to be in charge. In contrast the man at his right hand was tiny, shrunken almost, with long white hair and beard and a large hooked nose. Harry wondered idly whether there was something in wizarding genetics. Dumbledore, Merlin, Gandalf – all ended up with big beards and big noses. A depressing thought...

The leader's huge leathery hand grabbed his chin hard enough to make Harry gasp as his head was wrenched around. "A pretty little thing..." the tall man said, he had an accent that Harry couldn't put a finger on "...to have caused us so much trouble". Losing interest he turned abruptly away. "Set the guardians and we will rest. As soon as night falls we move out..."

While the four men prepared to sleep around the campfire, Harry and Arla were pushed into the darkness at the back of the cave, where he was pleased to find the two boys. All looked tired, hungry and dirty. It appeared that the younger boy had been crying, and a large bruise decorated the cheek of the elder. It appeared that he had not taken captivity lightly. Nonetheless, they were all alive, unshackled and mercifully without serious injury.

At the front of the cave three of the men were already making themselves comfortable, but the small man – he had to be a wizard of some sort - was pacing in the mouth of the cave, muttering into his beard. He must have done this before, thought Harry, as Arla gave a small cry of fear and hid her face in the shoulder of the elder boy, who rubbed her back comfortingly, while never taking his eyes from the cave entrance.

In spite of his familiarity with magic, the hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled in alarm. The shadows were _moving_. From around the edges of the cave, dark figures were gathering, coalescing, it seemed, from the darkness itself. Even knowing exactly how it was done – simple manipulation of light and darkness was nothing impressive, even without a wand – Harry couldn't suppress a shudder. No surprise that the children had been terrified.

"Clever" Harry murmured. "Enough to deter any passersby with a mind to explore, and terrifying enough to ensure that even when the men are asleep the children are too afraid to try to leave. Let's hope they aren't enough to scare off the cavalry when it arrives. Thinking of which – where _are_ you Sif? I'm running out of time."

Sure enough, it was not long after that the strange, cold, melting sensation came over him as his form began to shift and expand.

"Shhh" he whispered to the terrified children. "You're quite safe – it's only magic..."

 _ooo0ooo_

When the end came finally came, Harry thought, it was so straightforward as to be almost anti-climactic. Two of the men around the fire were still asleep, the wizard had his enormous nose buried in a book, and the other had just slipped outside for reasons which Harry didn't feel the need to go into.

When he returned a few minutes later, he had a very strange look on his face, and Sif's sword in his back...

 _Good thinking_ thought Harry, _make sure that the figures at the entrance aren't warded at all..._ He reached for his wand, still tucked under the boots he had had to quickly discard when the potion wore off – forcing him to quickly conjure some clothes. Fortunately – thanks to a muttered _notice me not_ charm - no one seemed to have registered yet, that the nine year old girl at the back of the cave was now a grown man.

As the rescue party went for the group leader and his two henchmen, Harry's first stunner from the back of the cave bounced straight off a shield charm that the wizard appeared to have cast around himself. _This guy's better than I thought,_ Harry thought crossly. A little more power the second time conjured a web of cracks as the charm shattered. Checking that Fandral, Sif and Volstagg had the others under control, Harry's attention was momentarily diverted, when to his irritation his wand was knocked clear out of his hand to skitter across the cave floor.

" _Accio_ " shouted Harry, but the wizard's image was already beginning to shimmer around the edges...

" _Stop him_ _Harry"_ yelled Sif

Years of magical combat training with the aurors stood him in very good stead. Hand extended Harry sent a bolt of white wandless energy flying across the room to hit the wizard just as he vanished into thin air.

Furious at his escape, Volstagg and Fandral were cursing a blue streak, much to the shocked amusement of the children.

"Gentlemen _please_!" protested Harry. "Little ears listening..."

"But this foul wizard escaped Harry. Escaped to ensnare more innocents like these three..." Volstagg's indignant rumble tailed off. "...you don't look as concerned as I would expect you to be?"

Harry was unable to resist a smug smile. "You see the white light I threw at him?" When they nodded his smile broadened. "Tracking spell..."

"What?"

"Tracking spell. Auror training 101. Track 'em even if you've got them in cuffs. Wizards are slippery creatures, 'specially the nasty ones. And it hit him. I can already feel it." He nodded at the other three slavers, now well secured. "We secure these three in the village, and collect them at our leisure once we've reeled in Merlin"

Seeing their blank looks Harry shook his head. "Merlin – wizard friend of Arthur – oh never mind..."

Fandral hauled the largest of the slavers to his feet none too gently. "Harry, do you have a way of getting the children home that doesn't involve them walking for miles? They've been through more than enough and need to be back with their parents as quickly as we can I think. Volstagg, Hogun and I can escort these three..." he gave the nearest a disdainful prod with his sword "... miscreants back to the village, if you can summon a flying carpet or something."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Apparition Fandrall, it's called Apparition. Sif, do you mind staying here for a few minutes, just to keep an eye on things while I take these two home, then I'll be back for you?"

Leaving Sif with the elder boy, Harry took a firm grip of the two younger children's hands, looked down at them and grinned.

"Hold on tight. You're going to _love_ this..."

Arla's squeal as they disappeared nearly ruptured his eardrum...

 _ooo0ooo_

The whole village threw a feast in the square in their honour that night. The food was plentiful if simpler than Harry had become used to and the music, mead and ale flowed freely into the early hours of the morning. After the anxiety and pressure of the last few days it was a relief to kick back for a few hours, and this probably led to Harry hitting the mead a little harder than was wise. Eventually he was forced to admit defeat, and Sif gave him a shoulder back to his room.

"I _really_ need to remember to go easy with these Asgardian drinks." Harry was concentrating hard on getting his words out, but even he was horribly aware that he was unsteady on his feet and slurring quite badly.

Sif laughed at him, shaking her head. "Oh the mighty Harry Potter and your feeble mortal constitution... Come on let's get you to bed."

With disconcerting ease she hoisted his legs onto the bed, pulling his boots off to make him more comfortable.

"Is that alright, or do you want to take the rest off?"

Harry shook his head woozily. "Tha... thats fine, why don't you join me...?"

Leaning over she smiled and kissed his temple. "Goodnight Harry"

Harry looked up and smiled. The candlelight reflected off the subtle red tints in her dark hair, and lit the subtle sheen of her skin. Her shadowed eyes were soft. He didn't think she had ever looked more beautiful...

"I love you Sif..."

She reared back as though he had slapped her. For a moment her eyes were wide and fearful – panicked – thought Harry. Even through the alcohol induced fog he knew with a sickening certainty that he'd just made a big mistake.

Then her face was smooth again, as the shutters came down, her chilled fingers tracing his cheek.

"Go to sleep Harry"

But it was a long time until Harry slept that night...

 _ooo0ooo_

The following morning it was as though nothing had happened...

To be sure both Harry and Sif were unusually quiet, and if Harry was paler and more tired looking than he should have been, he Warriors Three put that down to an excess of mead from the night before. Since their quarrels were usually conspicuous for both their volume and fury, it couldn't be anything else could it?

After they had bid farewell to Magnuss Radsson and the other villagers, the group mounted up and prepared to depart, leaving the other three slavers chained in Radsson's barn, to be collected later. In the square, the children had gathered to see them off, and little Arla Magnussdottir ran forward to thrust a small bunch of flowers into Harry's hand.

"Thank you for saving us Lord Harry"

Harry smiled down at the sunny little face, leaning down to brush her cheek with his finger. "Thank you sweetheart. You be happy now..."

"I will. I won't let the dark things scare me any more... Goodbye Lord Harry"

"Goodbye Arla"

Under normal circumstances, as they rode off, Harry would have leaned over and given the flowers to Sif with a teasing remark. This time, however, he turned to see her watching him with Arla, an unreadable expression on her face. Without a word, he tucked the flowers into a buttonhole on his riding coat and urged his horse on...

 _ooo0ooo_

Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his neck wearily. They had hunted the wizard all day, they were tired, the horses were tired and tempers were getting frayed. Fandral did his best to keep the mood light, but Harry and Sif were both in foul moods, and Volstagg was thinking about heading home to his wife and family and dinner. It was difficult to tell what kind of mood Hogun was in – he wasn't nicknamed The Grim for nothing., but he hardly contributed anything to the jollity of the moment. And no matter what they did the slippery little weasel remained a step in front of them.

The sensible thing would be to be patient and keep tracking him. To bide their time, wait for him to tire, approach carefully, and overpower him from a safe distance. To catch him unawares if they could. But Harry was tired, grumpy, his patience was wearing thin, and the light was fading.

"Right, this is what we are going to do. If I can get to him I can apparate in and take him by surprise... But give me a moment I need to see if I can get a close lock on him - if this is going to work I need to be _really_ close."

Needing peace and quiet, Harry dismounted, and stepped away from the group, into the trees for a moment, closing his eyes, and feeling for the pull of his tracking spell.

Sneaky little things, tracking spells. The problem with this one was that sometimes a very good wizard could feel that it was there. But it was almost impossible for anyone other than the caster to remove.

Harry's magic, now completely locked onto the spell flared suddenly sending his heart rate and adrenaline soaring.

 _He was close. Really, really close._

 _Far too close..._

Very slowly, Harry opened his eyes, feeling his wand materialising silently in his hand...

...and gasped at the burning pain in his ribs, sucking the breath from his lungs as he struggled to stay upright.

"You're good _wizard_ " said the hissing voice in his ear. "But you're not _that_ good. There's only one foolproof way to remove a tracking spell.

Remove the wizard that cast it.

 _Permenently_ "

Harry's hand had gone to the pain in his side, looking in disbelief at the flood of scarlet that covered it.

 _After all that, he was going to die here. In the forest, alone, at the hands of a slave trafficker._

Harry gritted his teeth, and summoned the tattered edges of his power together.

All his life, people had been trying to kill him, and he had never ever made it easy for them...

 _You first..._

" _Avada Kedavra"_

The wizards eyes glazed as he dropped like a stone at Harry's feet, to reveal Hogun and Volstagg, swords in hand, the others hard on their heels .

"Harry!"

Hogun was just fast enough to catch Harry before he hit the ground unconscious.

 _ooo0ooo_

 _How had this gone so wrong?_ Harry thought woozily

The pain in his side was excruciating, and the wet rattle of his laboured breathing indicated that the blade currently embedded between his ribs had probably punctured a lung...

He reached for his magic, but he had already expended too much, in energy and in blood lost. What little was left was probably keeping him alive.

Sif's face was cold and set as she desperately tried to stop the bleeding, eyes studiously avoiding Harry's. A little further away, Volstagg and Fandral, with the three men at arms, were checking their perimeter. Hogun had slid away to scout their position.

More than a day's journey from Asgard, and all sources of healing – this was bad - this was very very bad...

 _ooo0ooo_

"We have to move him. If we can't get him back to Asgard and the healers, he'll die" _Volstagg_ thought Harry wearily. The fierce pain in his side had lessened somewhat, but he felt weak, almost weightless, and it was getting hard to breath.

Sif's reply was almost vibrating with stress... "Volstagg, he is mortal. If we move him, he will certainly die."

"Sif we cannot stay here. What are we going to do, sit here and watch him bleed to death?"

" _I don't know what to do..."_ Sif's voice faded as the darkness took him again.

The evening sun was warm on his face. Surprised, Harry opened his eyes.

He was standing in Frigga's garden. _Now know I'm definitely dreaming_ he thought wearily.

Frigga herself was seated on the edge of the small pond, her hand idly stirring the surface, utterly oblivious to his presence. He tried to speak to her, but he was like a ghost...

Until he became aware that she was staring at the water...

Not at the water itself, but at his reflection in the rippling surface...

"Harry?"

She couldn't hear him, but the anguish in his eyes, and and the movement of his lips was unmistakable...

 _Help me..._

 _ooo0ooo_

"He's waking up"

Harry felt a hand grip his shoulder, and heard a familiar, female voice. "Relax Harry, you've been healed. You're going to be fine.

"Sif?"

The voice changed perceptibly. "No, it's Hermione. Sif has been here with you all night until Eir sent her back to her quarters to sleep. She will be annoyed that she wasn't here when you woke up. You need to sleep again now. Allow your body to rest."

An arm under his shoulders brought his head up, a cup of something warm and sweet was pressed to his lips.

Harry felt himself slipping back into the darkness. But this time it was warm and soothing and safe.

 _ooo0ooo_

The next time Harry awoke he felt considerably better. His body ached dully, and his head felt heavy and woolly, but under the circumstances he felt pretty good.

On the other side of the room, a familiar figure was chatting to one of the healers, long mobile fingers moving rapidly, illustrating a point in the conversation.

Loki

Seeing the healer looking at Harry over his shoulder, Loki turned and smiled suddenly. "Little Brother, you've decided to return to us." He strode over, to drop onto the bench beside Harry's bed. "You gave us all a scare there you know. Another few hours and even Eir couldn't have saved you"

"How did you find me? The last thing I remember was Sif arguing with Volstagg in the woods over whether or not to move me"

"Mother had one of her visions. She was in her garden, looked into the water, and saw you looking over her shoulder, like a ghost." Loki smiled "She is used to these things, but you managed to give her quite a turn. Then it was a combination of Thor and Mjolnir searching and Hermione and I scrying for you." He shook his head, reaching out to grip Harry's wrist. "Try not to make a habit of this, please Little Brother... you have too many that love you."

 _Love you..._ Harry frowned, trying to remember. Everything was fuzzy and confused.

"Sif"

Loki's face tightened imperceptibly. "She has gone back to the village to reclaim your three slavers. We're not sure where they came from at the moment, certainly not from any of the Nine Realms. Still, we shall know soon enough. Scum like that will sing like larks if pushed. Sif said she will come to see you when she returns in a few days." He looked around to see a healer hovering, bowl of broth in hand. "But for now Little Brother you need to eat, rest and heal."

 _ooo0ooo_

By the time Sif returned Harry was out of the Healing Rooms, although still confined to his rooms and subject to daily checks by the Healers.

He was seated by the window, an open book on his lap, watching the sun set into the sea. Sif looked, he thought, tired, and a little distracted. But still breathtakingly beautiful"

"Sif, you're back. Did you bring them back?"

Seeing her nod, he left his chair to greet her, but the expression in her face stopped him in his tracks.

"Sif? What is it?"

"I'm sorry Harry. We need to... I cannot do this anymore..."

 _ooo0ooo_

The following morning Harry was packing things into a bag when Hermione knocked on his bedroom door.

"Come in"

"Harry I got your message..." Hermione stood on the threshold, taking in the bags on the bed, the modest pile of Earth-suitable clothing, books and other possessions across the bed...

"Harry, what is this?"

"I'm going back"

"Back?"

"Home. To Mi... to Earth"

Hermione sank onto the bed, eyes wide. Dressed in a soft blue gown, hair in an elaborate braid down her back, she was entirely Princess Hermione of Asgard. "Harry, I rather thought that this was Home now..."

Harry sighed. "I'm a mortal in an immortal city Hermione. Everyone here is older, stronger and more durable than I am. I can't be Thor and Loki's mortal pet for ever"

" _Pet!"_ Harry hadn't seen that expression for years. Since their troubled pre-war days at Hogwarts " _Harry Potter"_ she took a calming deep breath "what is it Harry?"

"It's over. Sif and I." Seeing her expression darken he held up his hand. "No Hermione. Don't get mad at Sif. This is as hard for her as it is for me. Things happened while we were away... things that changed everything"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, remembering their meeting the previous evening.

" _I'm sorry Harry. I can't do this. I can't be the person you want me to be"_

" _I care about you. Probably more than anyone I've ever known, but I'm not capable of the kind of love you're offering. The sort of relationship that you want"_

 _"And what sort of relationship do you think that I want Sif?"_

 _"Oh Harry. You want what they have in the stories, what Loki and Hermione have. You want a love to sing songs of... a wife, children"_

 _"Sif..."_

" _I cannot stay and watch you die Harry. I'm sorry, I'm not that strong..._ _"_

It was the only time he had ever seen her cry, and it was that, more than anything, that had told him that this was a difficult and painful for her as it was for him.

So he was going to be the gentleman. Going to make it easier for her...

He opened his eyes to meet Hermione's

"I love her Hermione."

"Harry. If you love her, I know that Thor will give you the apple. You being mortal doesn't have to be an issue."

Harry walked around the bed, to take her hands. "Hermione. You gave up your mortal life and took the apple from Loki, knowing that he was as fully invested in the relationship as you were. Unless she is able to love me like I love her, then there is no point to this. Immortality is not the way to patch up a shaky relationship. We have to get that right first.

I will be back. There are too many people here that I care about for me to go away forever. I just need to ... get away for a while. From here. From people who don't age and die as I will, and from a woman I'm going to have a tough time getting over."

Hermione rose to hug him tightly. "Stay in touch Harry. Don't disappear"

"I promise. Look, I want to do this quietly. Can you say my goodbyes for me? If you need to you can contact me via Professor McGonagall"

"And you promise you'll come back to us?"

"I promise..."

Harry slipped the last few things into his bag, and with a last look around the room that had been home for very nearly two years, he left, closing the door softly behind him...

* * *

 _Just to remind everyone where we are on the KTSA timeline. At the beginning of "Of Oaths and Promises" Harry has been on Earth for approximately three months. Since there is no point reinventing the wheel, these stories will pick up again after the events on Svartalfheim, towards the end of "Of Oaths and Promises" with a story called "While You Were Sleeping" which I'm just doing some rewrites on._

 _Thanks again for reading_

 _M x_


	15. Chapter 15

Hello to you all, and once again, a huge thank you for the brilliant response to The King's Commission. I did love writing that - it was one of those blissful stories that just seems to write itself - hence the speed at which I got all three parts posted. A quick recap to get the timeline clarified a bit, because as my lovely beta MKB said the other day - just because it's clear in your head, it doesn't mean it makes any sense to anyone else.

The first part of this story takes place three months after Harry's departure from Asgard, on the day after - in Of Oaths and Promises - Loki and Hermione's visit to the secret vaults of Gringotts. The second part jumps pretty much the whole story, and picks up six days later. I tried to write something to fit in between, (I have half a dozen abandoned chapters on my laptop to prove it), but short of rewriting all 30 chapters from Harry's POV I just couldn't make it work. If something comes to me later I'll just post an extra one shot.

And to the guest reviewer who suggested that Harry would be better off with Darcy or - I'm assuming you meant Natasha - sorry. Harry / Natasha is a whole other story. I've spent too long building this to break it down now... I hope you enjoy it anyway... After all, it would be really boring if the course of true love ran too smoothly...

Merrick x

* * *

 _While You Were Sleeping:_

 _Harry had not allowed himself to think about going back until the day that Hermione's owl arrived._

 _Since the day he left Asgard so abruptly he had roamed constantly, never staying anywhere very long. He had visited old friends, old haunts. Hogwarts of course, the Weasleys', Shell Cottage, Godric's Hollow. He'd even finally made his peace with Ginny._

 _When he ran out of places to run to, he returned to London, finally coming to a decision and putting Grimmauld Place up for sale. Its connection to Sirius caused him a pang of regret, but to Harry it would always be full of ghosts and bad memories, just as it had been for his Godfather. With that decision made, he spent a further week hidden in the bowels of Gringotts Bank sorting the contents of the old Black family vault. He had been shocked when the goblins had suggested that he might also legitimately have a claim to the content of the Lestrange vault given his connection to Sirius. Harry had declined with a shudder. Apparently Draco had reacted in a similar manner when asked the same question, so the Lestrange vault was now sealed in perpetuity._

 _In the Black vault however he had discovered volume upon volume of family records, and within them Harry had finally found the answer to his inexplicable link with Loki. Not a brother, but a true blood connection , dating back over 500 years… to the story of a visit by a mysterious, slender young man, with black hair, green eyes, and the bearing of a prince. A man that was, to all effects, the founder of the House of Black._

 _And now, everything that needed to be done having been done; Harry sat on the dunes by Dobby's grave, feeling the damp salty chill of the wind, watching a pair of gulls wheeling overhead, his mind so far away that he didn't hear the footsteps behind him._

" _Are you sick Harry? Should we be worried?" Harry tilted his head to find Bill Weasley behind him, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket._

" _What makes you say that Bill?"_

 _As he had done that time in his parent's garden two years ago, Bill dropped easily into the sand beside him. "You're different, although I'd be hard pushed to put my finger on how. And since you came back you've been – well – it just seems like you've been setting your affairs in order or something."_

 _For a long time, Harry was silent, his eyes drifting back to the gulls, and the scudding grey clouds above. Eventually he drew a deep breath_

" _Why is it that you don't really know how much a place has come to mean to you until it's too late, until you've left it behind? Three months Bill. I've been away from Asgard for three months and I still dream of it every damn night. Since I came back I've visited every place that ever felt like home to me in my whole life – looking - waiting for that feeling. And it's gone. Just - gone"_

 _He shook his head… "This isn't home anymore Bill. And God knows it isn't just Sif – although she's a hard act to follow. It's…well ….it's everything. How can I possibly be so desperately homesick for somewhere that not only isn't my home, it isn't even on the same planet?"_

" _Harry, I would think you would know by now that home is not about places, it's about people. You've found a family, friends. Up there you don't have to hide your magic, you're not "the saviour of the wizarding world" your you, and they love you for it like we do. That's a big thing for you. So do you have options - Can you go back?"_

" _Oh yes. All I have to do is ask and I Heimdall will pick me up. Thor has even hinted that he would give me immortality if I asked for it…. I just… It's a big decision y'know. If Sif and I could've worked it out. If she could really have loved me, that would've been different. But I don't know whether I could spend forever in Asgard without her - but with her if you know what I mean."_

 _Bill scowled into the salty wind. "I thought her issue was that you were mortal Harry. Surely if you've been offered immortality that's problem solved?"_

 _Harry shook his head. "Sif has – issues. She_ says _it's my mortality, but the fact is, she's terrified to really open up…to make herself that vulnerable." He looked at Bill with a twisted little smile… "There's a reason she spends most of her life wearing armour you know." He sighed. "As I said to Hermione, giving up her life here, her mortality. That was a huge decision for her, even knowing that Loki was so desperately in love with her that he would have given up Asgard, his family, immortality, everything for her if she'd said no. Sif on the other hand, almost had a stroke when I told her I loved her."_

 _Bill winced. "Ouch. That was awkward. Was that what prompted you to leave?"_

" _That, and her freaking out and ending it when I nearly got myself killed."_

" _So she doesn't love you apparently, and doesn't want you to love her, but..."_

 _Harry nodded ruefully. "... but she would rather end the relationship than watch me grow old and die"_

" _You're right. This gal has issues... Not that I expected anything else."_

 _Harry eyed him sideways. "What's that supposed to mean?"_

 _Bill ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. "Harry you've always had a thing for difficult, stubborn and complicated women. It's why it would never've worked with my sister. She was just too straightforward for you... You've never been able to resist a challenge."_

 _Harry huffed a reluctant laugh. "You may be right..."_

 _Bill rose to his feet rummaging in his pocket. "Given what you've told me, I guess I don't have to worry that your getting this will make things worse. It arrived a few minutes ago."_

 _The letter was thick in a way that spoke of very expensive paper, Harry remembered finding sheets of it in a drawer in his room, the handwriting too was nearly as familiar to him as his own . Smiling, Harry turned the letter over to examine the dark green wax seal, where a serpent coiled itself around a stylised image of Yggdrasil._

 _Harry smiled. "The seal of the Royal House of Asgard. Hermione…"_

 _Bill clapped him briefly on the shoulder. "I'll see you inside mate. Kettle'll be on."_

 _Bill re-entered the cottage to find Fleur watching from the window, two mugs of tea on the side._

" _Is he alright Bill?"_

" _I suppose that depends on what's in the letter. I suspect that when he came back to us he left his heart behind. And not just this girl, Sif. Everyone."_

 _Fleur shook her head "Why does he have to make life so hard for himself?"_

 _Bill chuckled evilly, pulling her into his side, dropping a kiss on her smooth pale hair. "Says the woman that gave her heart to an almost-werewolf" Seeing Harry striding purposefully back into the house his heart sank... "Uh Oh. Here we go. Whatever was in that letter he's made a decision."_

 _The front door opened and Harry whirled in like a tornado, heading straight up the stairs to his room. "Sorry Bill, looks as though I'm on the move again. Something's happening. SOS from Hermione. I'm meeting her in The Cauldron this afternoon."_

 _Bill and Fleur listened to the pounding footsteps above. Fleur looked sadly at her husband over the top of her mug. "We are going to lose him this time aren't we Bill?"_

" _It looks like it love, yes."_

ooo0ooo

 _The Palace of Asgard – Five Days Later_

The teams from Earth and from Svartalfheim had been back for hours before Jane realised that she hadn't seen her husband since he had brought Harry and Loki into the Healing Rooms. Back and head aching she straightened up, seeing the wounds of the last warrior healed, before pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Has anyone seen the Allfather?"

Almost a full half hour later Jane tapped softly on the door of Thor's study, but there was no answer. Opening the door cautiously, she found the room in darkness, but some instinct told her unerringly that the room was not empty.

"Thor? Are you there?" Retrieving a lamp from the hallway, she slid into the room, closing the door softly behind her.

The King of Asgard was seated behind his desk in total darkness – his head in his hands. Hearing his wife's voice he sighed and looked up, blinking in the light, the shock of the day's events written on his face.

"Tony Stark said that winning never felt more like losing. Short of Malekith destroying the Nine Realms, nothing in my worst nightmares prepared me for this." He rubbed his eyes wearily. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I have left you and mother to deal with this, when I should have been there for you."

Jane leaned over his shoulders, wrapping him in her arms, her breath soft on his neck. "Part of being married is supporting _each other_. Sometimes you are strong for me – now it's my turn to be strong for you. Frigga and I have dealt with everything..."

Thor sighed wearily, resting his head against hers, drawing on her strength. "Tell me..."

Jane settled onto his lap, head on his shoulder. "Fletcher's body is tended in the death house with the others. A message has gone down to the Headmistress at the - School..."

"Professor McGonagall"

"... to Professor McGonagall, firstly letting her know what happened, and secondly asking her to make inquiries into Fletcher's family. Hermione seemed to think that he was alone, but we need to be sure. If he is truly alone, then we will take care of him."

Thor nodded. "What of Loki and Harry?"

Jane sighed. "They are both in the Healing Rooms. Neither show any sign of waking. Hermione is telling some crazy story about oaths and bargains and someone called Hela." She was forced to clutch onto him tightly as Thor sat up suddenly.

"Hela? What has my niece to do with all of this?"

Jane's head flew up in shock. "Niece. Since when? Did Hermione know about this?"

Thor shrugged. "I assume that my brother would have told her for all this happened many centuries ago. Hela is his daughter with the Jotun Angrboda. The Norns predicted that she would be powerful, and a great threat, so when she was grown my father made her ruler of the kingdom of the dead."

"And her mother – Angr... what was her name?"

"Angrboda. She was very powerful, and the form she had taken was very beautiful. My brother was very young, and utterly infatuated by her. She concealed her natural Jotun appearance in order to seduce him and disappear. Mother had a vision – of a child born, which would be tremendously powerful. She warned Father – who acted. Angrboda was executed and the child reclaimed."

"How did Loki react to that?"

"He was devastated – first to discover that she had effectively used him like a stud stallion – even then he was magically tremendously powerful, even more so when he heard of his child's fate. He fought Father's decision tooth and nail, but Father would not be swayed. She was very powerful and he was not prepared to take the risk, especially not to oblige my brother. I believe he only kept her alive at all because Mother and I begged it of him"

 _For Thor, or Frigga but never for Loki._ Yet another black mark against Odin Jane thought sadly. "Poor Loki. Now he's unconscious, and has no idea that he really is going to be a father this time."

Thor's head flew up, his grief momentarily forgotten. "A father? Hermione is with child?" When Jane nodded, his brow lowered. "How long has she known? Had Loki or I known she would never have been permitted to fight today..." he shook his head as realisation dawned "...of course, which is why she took care that we did not find out. Now is not the time, but I must have words with my sister, putting herself and her child at risk like that."

Jane snorted in a most un Queen-like manner. "Yeah – good luck with that one. Beside, which other powerful witch were you planning on recruiting to take her place, because from what I heard you would've been kinda stuck without her today."

Knowing when you are on a losing streak is a useful talent for any ruler, and Thor was no exception changing the subject deftly "What is this tale that Hermione tells?"

Jane shook her head, allowing herself to be deflected. "I don't know what to make of it. She says that Harry's magic pulled them through into another dimension, where he negotiated a deal with Hela. Thor, she says that he swore service to Hela in exchange for Loki's life."

Large strong hands set her firmly onto her feet as Thor flew out of his seat, heading for the Healing Rooms at a dead run...

He entered like the storms he commanded, scattering healers in his path. "Where is he? Where is my brother? Where is the Princess Hermione?"

"Thor" Hermione stood in the doorway of one of the anti-rooms, still dusty and dressed in her battle gear. Thor grabbed her shoulders.

"Hermione – tell me everything..."

ooo0ooo

Thor remained with Hermione, door closed for nearly an hour.

When he emerged, pale and shaken, he found Frigga loitering uncertainly outside. "Thor, is Loki awake?" when he failed to answer, she paled. "Th.. Thor – he isn't...?"

Thor's eyes turned back to her. "No mother... Loki still sleeps...Hermione is with him." He looked around the room. "Do you know where Harry is?"

His mother nodded, indicating another room to their left. "He is also unconscious. Sif is with him. I do not believe I have ever seen her so distressed."

Thor nodded thoughtfully. "I believe that they quarrelled bitterly this morning before we left. It was over..."

"...Loki" Frigga shook her head. "Have you ever known them truly quarrel over anyone or anything else?" She sighed. "I had hoped that Harry's return would give them a new start, now I can only pray that they will have the time to mend things between them."

Thor scowled in frustration. "If what Hermione tells me is true, Sif will have plenty of time to reconsider her words before they meet again." His eyes scanned the room, catching sight of Banner and Rogers. "What are Banner and Rogers doing here – was Stark more seriously hurt than we supposed?" Tony had seen a healer, who had examined him, confirmed that his injuries were not likely to be life threatening, and dispatched him to a bed, under observation. From the way the healers, Banner and Rogers were huddled together, this was far beyond observation.

Frigga put a gentle hand on his arm. "The Lady Natasha was grievously wounded by the Dark Elves. For a while the healers believed that she was lost, but she is strong and determined, and they believe now, that with time, all will be well." Seeing how torn her son was, she drew him a little to one side. "If there is something that you need to do Thor, you may leave the wounded in mine and Jane's charge."

Thor frowned, still undecided. "I wish for Loki's clear head at such times. And for his powers. Mother, if I call for my niece, will she come?"

"Hela?" Frigga pondered for a moment. "Without Loki, if she does not wish to be summoned then the answer must be no. But she has ever had a soft spot for her favourite uncle, and it may be that she will be expecting you to call? It will be best to go to the top of the Observatory, that way you can channel a little of Mjolnir's power to aid you." Frigga paused, to kiss his cheek. "Send her my love won't you... remind her she is free to visit any time she pleases now that your father is gone."

Thor hugged his mother tightly. "I must talk to her mother, then, if what I hear is correct, I need to have a very long and difficult conversation with Sif."

"Go. Do what you have to do and leave all here in mine and Jane's hands..."

ooo0ooo

The icy wind whipped around Thor as he landed on the Observatory, the tallest tower of the palace of Asgard, Mjolnir clutched in his hand. Lightning flickered around him, from a combination of his emotions and the hammer's power. It had been a relief to fly free through the night for a moment, fee of the cares and responsibilities that so beset him.

"HELA" he tipped back his head, calling to the skies. "HELA – I WOULD SPEAK WITH YOU NIECE"

Only the howling winds answered him... "HELA WHERE..."

"Really Uncle. I heard you the first time... in fact they probably heard you on the other side of the Nine..."

Thor whirled to find Hela perched on the wall – blissfully oblivious to the eye watering drop behind her.

She raised an eyebrow. "You hollered Uncle?"

Thor pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the mother of all headaches approaching. Sometimes Hela's likeness to her father was beyond belief. He summoned his most ferocious frown.

"Niece. What have you done this time...?"

ooo0ooo

Thor tapped gently on the door of Harry's room, ducking his head as he entered. Harry had been washed, his hair combed out and various cuts and grazes from recent conflicts cleaned. Only the barely discernible rise and fall of his chest, and the slight flush of his skin indicated that he was anything other than one more of the fallen that had been similarly washed and gowned that day. That and the presence of Sif also still in her battle dress, who was seated beside him, eyes never leaving his face. She looked around briefly when Thor entered, but returned to her vigil almost immediately

Thor placed a large hand on her shoulder. "Lady Sif, will you walk with me?"

She shook her head. "I cannot leave him. What if he wakes and finds himself alone? I abandoned him once, I will not make the same mistake again."

"My mother will come and sit with him for a while. I must speak with you."

Seeing Frigga hovering in the doorway, Sif rose, reluctantly. "You will send for me if he wakes...? Even for a moment?"

Frigga smiled touching her cheek sadly. "I promise. Now go with Thor my dear."

Lost in thought, Sif followed her friend and leader through the darkened corridors, looking around in surprise when she realised he had led her into Frigga's private garden.

Thor was turned away from her, studying the play of light and shadows across the pond as if it were the most interesting thing in the Nine Realms at that moment... When he finally spoke, his voice was husky, and a little uncertain. A cold knot of fear tightened Sif's stomach.

"Sif, you need to know that my sister returned home today with a strange tale. So very strange that I felt that – in all fairness – I needed to verify that which she told me." Thor finally turned to face her, placing large hands on her shoulders.

"I have had a long conversation this evening with my niece."

"Your... niece?

"With Hela, Queen of the Underworld"

Sif's eyes were now wide and fearful. "Tell me – please"

Thor sighed. There was no easy way to tell this tale, which was so strange, that – in spite of the trust which he placed in Hermione, he had struggled to believe it himself.

"Sif, part of this tale is my own, but the rest is from the testimony of the Princess Hermione, corroborated by my niece. Today, when we were thrown through the Con... no I must begin earlier than that...

When I retired on the night that the Dark Elves attacked, a few hours before dawn, I found Loki waiting in my chambers. Fresh evidence had been received from Midgard, indicating that Malekith may have greater knowledge of our plans than we had believed. So, over the next hour, my brother and I put together a – deception."

Sif looked about to speak, but a raised hand silenced her.

"When Hermione and I left my study, and heard you quarrelling with Harry in the library – you did my brother, and Harry, a grave injustice. Loki did not betray me, his house or Asgard. What he did do, with my knowledge and consent, was to lure Malekith away from Asgard, putting himself, and the unfortunate Midgardian Fletcher at grave personal risk..."

"But the Great Hall? You _muzzled him,_ had him dragged away in chains..." Sif fell silent "... I don't understand"

"The little Midgardian, Fletcher, was infected with the Aether. It was essential for Asgard to reclaim it, but in order to do that it needed to be withdrawn from its host and safely contained. The only being capable of this was Malekith. And can you imagine one of us simply walking up to him and asking him nicely to do the deed for us? No. And Malekith had obtained information from a source on Midgard we had believed to be honest – he was aware that Loki, Hermione and Harry had been searching for the Aether. So what we needed was someone that could credibly betray Asgard."

Sif closed her eyes for a moment, seeing the bewildered agony on Hermione's white face, the way she had fainted before all in the Great Hall... "Did she – the Princess Hermione know about this plan"

Thor shook his head. "That was the hardest of all that we did. It was imperative that, for the benefit of the spies that Malekith undoubtedly had in the Great Hall that morning, her reaction was absolutely convincing... my brother is a consummate actor, but I believe he ended things when he did because he could not bear to watch her agony a moment longer.."

Sif was seated now, feeling suddenly sick. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. "He didn't betray you?"

Thor's eyes were very serious. "Sif, my brother has a reputation for being – flexible – with the truth. He is in all fact as subtle and devious as a serpent, but his oath, like his love, once honestly and freely given, is his bond. That is why it took so long for him to swear me his allegiance. From that moment that he placed his hands in mine, he has in truth been my liege man."

Sif tried to regain her footing in a world which seemed to be shifting sickeningly beneath her feet. "But it would not be the first time he has tried to take the throne which is yours by right."

"No!" Thor's voice was suddenly hard. "No. I am not blind to what my brother did in those dark times, but I will not have him accused beyond his due. He himself will admit sending the Destroyer to Midgard. Sick in mind as he was at the time, I do not truly believe that he intended to kill me... although of that I may be mistaken. But the throne of Asgard, Gungnir, were presented to him in all ceremony, as regent, with my Mother's consent when my Father fell into the Odinsleep."

Sif's face was ashen. "What have I done?" She looked up at Thor, eyes fierce. "Tell me the rest... please"

"The plan worked, insofar as Loki was able to get close to Malekith, and to allow him to extract the Aether from Fletcher, but that is where it all went horribly wrong. The gravity devices erected to counteract the effects of the convergence did not take certain – magical fields in the area into account. When they were activated the combination threw us all through the convergence, and the Aether brought us to Svartalfheim.

We had barely caught our breath when we were attacked. Harry and I by two of Malekith's guard, and Loki and Hermione, who had landed a little way from us, by the others. By the time we were reunited, Hermione and Loki had despatched the other four..."

"Wait. Did you say _Hermione_ and Loki?"

Thor smiled briefly. "Indeed, it appears that Loki has been coaching her. My sister is now almost as lethal as my brother, for she stabbed one clean through the throat, and broke the neck of a second. Once we had located Malekith, with the assistance of Stark, we divided our forces at Hermione's suggestion. Stark and I took on the Kursed, while the three mages took care of Malekith and the Aether." Again, he paused to gather memories which were still too fresh and raw to be recollected without pain.

"Malekith was vanquished quickly, but at the expense of great power by all three mages. Stark and I were not having such an easy time of it. He was incapacitated, and alone I was not powerful enough to conquer the creature. Seeing that I was in dire straits, Loki came immediately to my aid." Thor drew a deep breath, knowing that the hardest tale was yet to come.

"Loki succeeded in eliminating the Kursed, using a void grenade, but at a terrible cost. He was mortally wounded, there was nothing Hermione Harry or I could do, and he had no power of his own left to heal himself, having expended it all vanquishing Malekith." Thor's head was bowed, recalling the terrible moment when he had watched his beloved brother's life slipping away under his hands, helpless to stop it.

"I remember a great cry from Harry, and a flash of light, but that is all. Hermione tells of how she and Loki awoke in a great empty white space, where Harry was speaking to a woman that I recognised as Loki's daughter Hela." Thor's hands reached out to grip Sif's, neither of them steady.

"For love of my brother and Hermione, and for the sake of their unborn child, he struck a bargain..."

Sif's voice was less than a whisper. "Tell me Thor"

"One hundred years of service to Hela"

Sif sprang to her feet "One hundred years? That is a heartbeat to an Aesir, but Harry is mortal. He has traded his life..." she was unable to continue, her voice choking.

Thor took her shoulders drawing her against him. "No. No Sif. Hela is not so cruel, especially to those whom her father loves. When Harry returns to us, she has it in her power to return him with the long life of the Aesir. It will be hard, but you and Harry may yet get your chance to make things right... But..."

Sif looked up, her eyes suspiciously damp "But..."

"Sif. Loki and Harry are sworn brothers. In fact, from what Hela tells me, there is a true blood connection between them. The bond between them is not to be taken lightly." He set her a little away from him, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "Lady Sif, do you love Young Harry?"

Sif nodded mutely, too overcome to speak.

"Then this constant antagonism between you and my brother cannot continue, for it leaves Harry pinned between the two of you, and I know from bitter experience how difficult that can be. I wish you to look upon these years as a gift. While Harry fulfils his oath to Hela, you have a quest of your own to complete."

She said nothing, eyes steady and determined now, waiting to hear her fate.

"You must use this time to make things right with Loki – if and when he wakes, and win the forgiveness of my sister, which may be harder to achieve. But first I believe that you need some time for rest and for reflection."

Sif paled. "You're sending me away aren't you?"

"Yes Sif, I am".


	16. Chapter 16

_First of all, a hands up to the fact that I'm mixing my mythologies by using the River Styx reference in the title. Sorry, but I just really loved the title. The alternative was Harry in Hel, and given that Hela is sometimes called Hel herself this had all sorts of connotations which I really wanted to avoid._

 _I'm not going to make Harry's adventures in Hel into an epic – spending a hundred years there, I could go on forever, but there are some things I need to get in, so this will be the first of several parts. Part Two is already half written._

 _There are also a couple of stories – probably shorter, covering Sif, and the quest of self-discovery that Thor has sent her on – of which more to follow. The plan is to bring this to a conclusion around about Christmas, because I'm currently working on another multi chapter story with a different Harry / pairing that I really need to focus on for a while. In the meantime a HUGE thank you to everyone that is still supporting Harry and his adventures._

 _Big hugs to everyone, but especially to any readers in France at the moment. We are thinking of you. Merrick xxxx_

* * *

Crossing the Styx – Part One.

Harry was woken when a beam of light penetrating a gap in the heavy curtains finally reached his face. Warm, comfortable, and relaxed, he turned, burrowing his face back into the pillow trying to go back to sleep.

Gradually it penetrated his sleep fogged mind that everything was not as it should be. Even with his eyes closed, there was an indefinable wrongness that he struggled to pin down... this wasn't his familiar room in the palace of Asgard.

Gradually memory returned...

The convergence, Svartalfheim. Loki grey and gasping for air, clutching the gaping hole in his chest and the look of agonised despair in Hermione's eyes.

The white in-between space and a slender green eyed woman

 _...You would offer up your life for his. Why would you do that?_

 _...Brother. I accept your offer. With conditions. For I cannot take your soul unless you are dead, which you are clearly not. But I may accept your service – for the customary one hundred years. At the end of this time, you may choose to stay, or you may return._

 _...when you return you will have the long life which has been gifted to the others."_

 _Father. Today you have been given the greatest gift that can be given. Don't waste it in anger and bitterness. Make it count. Value it by becoming the man that he knows you to be._

 _Now say goodbye..._

 _Goodbye..._

With a gasp, he sat up with a start

He was in Hel – literally.

What had he done?

ooo0ooo

Eventually his hunger forced him to leave his safe cocoon and face reality. If anything he had heard about Hell in his lifetime was correct, his impulsively quixotic gesture may prove to be a serious error of judgement. Finding that he was only dressed in his underwear, he looked around his room for something to wear. Opening a door he found a walk in wardrobe, full of clothes in his size, from Earth-style jeans, jumpers and tee shirts to the whole gamut of Asgardian linen wool and leather. Either he had been asleep a lot longer than he thought, or Hel had all of her Father's powers. Right now he wasn't up to wrestling with straps buckles and lacings so he settled for jeans and a jumper.

Stepping out of his room, Harry found himself on a paneled landing, lit from above by a great stained glass dome. Looking down over the rail, he was impressed by a huge oak staircase, leading down into a flagged hallway. As he stood indecisively, trying to get his bearings, he was startled to hear the sound of feet in the distance. Lots and lots of feet.

Puzzled he descended cautiously, realising that the footsteps were coming from outside. Wand drawn he opened the door carefully.

From a small flagged terrace, he looked down a flight of stairs into a large courtyard. An archway at each end allowed easy access for the constant stream of people walking through. Harry watched, stunned. Young old, male, female, of every race and species in the Nine Realms. Some were visibly wounded or sick, others in the prime of life, stepping out boldly... Where had they all come from?

"The dead are always with us..."

He hadn't realised that he had spoken aloud until Hela appeared at his shoulder. The long elegant gown was gone, replaced with a black shirt and slim fitting jeans tucked into high heeled black boots.

Hela continued. "All day every day they stream through the gates of my kingdom"

Harry turned to her, horrified. " _Children_ go to hell. Some of them are tiny – how is this right?"

She took his arm gently, leading him back into the house. "We should talk I think. Are you a tea or coffee person?"

Harry took a last look at a little boy with blonde hair and grey eyes, undoubtedly Aesir. He looked lost and a little afraid. Harry's heart twisted at the thought of his parents, grieving for his loss. "What will happen to him? He's so little to be alone."

Hela turned him toward the second gate, where an elderly lady, long grey hair coiled neatly in the nape of her neck, pushed her way through the crowds. "His Grandmother, if I'm not very much mistaken. He'll be fine" She turned back into the house, indicating that he should follow. "Welcome to my home, come on, I'll give you the tour. It's good to see you awake at last. I was beginning to worry"

Harry eyed the oak paneling and stained glass with appreciation. "The house is lovely. It's strangely like the sort of manor house they set Agatha Christie murder mysteries in. There isn't a body in the library is there?"

Hela laughed and shook her head, leading him through a door into a comfortable looking library, lit by floor to ceiling windows all down one side. Looking out, Harry was stunned to look over well manicured lawns and well tended gardens. Surprised he turned back to Hela. "Shouldn't this look over the front of the house?"

As it was chilly in the room, Hela was busy at the fireplace. "The house is keyed to my magic, to my thoughts and emotions. The fundamental layout stays the same, but just about anything else is up for change. The view from the window shows whatever the house thinks I want it to show." With a puff of acid green power the fire flared into life. "For instance, this room is almost always a little colder than is comfortable because I love to read by the fire." As she straightened she frowned for a moment. "Interesting"

"What"

"There's a second chair. That wasn't here yesterday. How very strange. The only time the house has done that is when my father has been here."

Harry was prowling around the shelves. There was a huge range, from ancient texts on magic and philosophy, to modern Midgardian novels, some of them quite racy. He was particularly fascinated to see shelves of books from all across the Nine Realms. "Why would Loki be here?"

Hela was perched on the arm of one of the big comfortable leather armchairs watching the flames. "Sometimes he just visits, other times he's hidden out here when things have got a bit too hot in the Nine Realms." Her mobile face was still for a moment remember several occasions over the centuries when his soul had come through her gates as one of the dead, only to be healed and returned. "He doesn't stay for long though. We really are far too similar, and it all gets a bit explosive after a while. Besides, before he met Hermione I used to sometimes feel like his mother not his daughter. When he was off the rails his capacity for trouble was almost limitless. Come on – you can come back whenever you want to – now I need to show you around. Then I need coffee. I _really_ need coffee."

The layout of the house was simple but comfortable. Next door to the library was a sitting room where Harry was stunned to find a large flat screen TV and a vast library of films. "Magic can't get me cable, but it does power the TV, and I so love your Midgardian films. Several times a year I visit and stock up."

On the other side of the hall was a small dining room. and the kitchen, which was huge and very well equipped. "I love to cook, although the house is happy to provide snacks if you don't want to." She sighed. "I do love fast food though, which is the one thing it never seems to get right."

When she had prepared their drinks from the very impressive state of the art coffee machine which would not have been out of place in a New York coffee house, they sat at the kitchen table.

"Sometimes there's a breakfast bar in here, but not today. It's a shame really because it's kind of useful."

Harry took another sip of his excellent coffee.

"So how does this work? I thought that only bad people came to Hell? Those people outside don't look particularly evil"

Hela smiled. "Ah. You're thinking of the Christian definition of hell (which has two Ls remember) and if you thought that you were going there, and still volunteered then the greatest respect to you. No this is Hel with one L, and to my kingdom come all those who die of sickness or old age. To come here is considered a tremendous shame by such as my Uncle Thor, although I love him dearly in spite of everything."

Harry smiled. "Thor is very easy to love. Hermione says he reminds her of a golden retriever."

Hela laughed delightedly. "What a lovely idea, I see exactly what she means. Strong as a lion, and as brave. Loyal, affectionate and tremendously enthusiastic, but a stranger to subtlety or stratagem."

"That's what he has your father for. These days they are two halves of the same coin."

"It was not always so."

Harry frowned. "I know. I don't wish to speak ill of the dead, but Odin was a piece of work – and that's putting it politely."

"Oh he was indeed. It is his will that binds me as Queen of the Dead, when by rights I should be a princess of Asgard. But I like it well enough here, I am too unconventional to fit comfortably into the Golden City."

"Better to rule in Hel than to serve in heaven?"

Hela smiled in pleasure. "The Midgardian story of Lucifer the fallen angel. How very appropriate. I remember being told that story when I was a child and wondering whether they were confusing Lucifer with Loki, who was kicked out of Asgard more times than I can remember."

Her smile widened further, lighting up her cool beauty in a way that reminded Harry so much of Loki that Harry's stomach clenched. "I believe that I shall enjoy having you here with me Harry Potter."

ooo0ooo

The transition, and the events of the recent past must have taken their toll on Harry, for he found that he was tired and listless for several days, and spent much of the time he was not asleep curled up in the library reading, dozing, or talking to Hela.

On the fourth day he came downstairs earlier than had become his habit, to find Hela dressed for riding.

"Harry, if you're feeling better, why don't you ride out with me? Get the lay of the land so to speak."

He had spent too long indoors thought Harry. He needed fresh air and exercise. "Give me ten minutes to change and I'll be right with you..."

The stables were surprisingly well stocked for a house with only one occupant, and Harry found himself delighted with the mount provided for him. Hela eyed him critically. "You are comfortable on a horse, for a Midgardian. It is not a common skill these days."

Harry laughed, remembering his horror at the prospect of mounting a horse on his first arrival at Heimdall's Observatory. "Before I arrived in Asgard, I had ridden a broomstick, a thestral, a hippogriff and on one particularly memorable occasion, broken out of a building in the middle of London riding on the back of a white dragon. But I had never ridden a horse." He smiled warmly, remembering those early days. "It was your father that taught me to ride."

Hela smiled and shook her head. "You truly do love him don't you?"

"Like him I grew up as the cuckoo in the nest. It wasn't until I was eleven and my letter came from Hogwarts that I discovered what it took your father a thousand years to find out. That it was fundamentally impossible for me to be what they wanted me to be. That understanding helped us to bond. But really, he's the big brother I always wanted. My friend Ron used to moan sometimes about his older brothers, how they were always more popular, more intelligent, just _more_ I suppose. But I could never see that. I just saw that he was part of this big chaotic, dysfunctional family that loved each other fiercely and always had each other's backs, no matter what – Percy aside of course. And I wanted that – I could never understand why Ron always felt so ambivalent about it."

"He sounds like a jerk"

In some ways he was. He was supposed to be my best friend, but he was always pathologically jealous of the attention I got. No matter how often I tried to tell him, I don't think he ever understood how desperately I hated it. How much I wanted to be – just – Harry. Hermione got it though. Looking back, I can see now that she was always there for me. No matter what happened, even when I was a complete arse, when it all got too much and I would lash out at those closest to me, she never ever gave up on me."

"Good practice for life with my father. Anyone capable of finally straightening _him_ out must be something pretty special"

"You've never met her? Not properly I mean?"

Hela shook her head. "I didn't have enough contact with my father or his family to really form any kind of attachment to them. So even though technically I _could_ go to Asgard now that Odin is dead, I don't feel a great inclination to do so. From what I've seen of Hermione, she seems nice enough, and she's clearly been a good influence on Father if what I've heard is true."

Harry looked around him as they rode. The countryside was generally open grassland, with rolling hills and small pockets of woodland. It wasn't dissimilar to areas of Britain, or even some of the country around Asgard. But the colours seemed more muted, the grass and trees had a greyish tinge to them, and the light seemed – wrong somehow. Here and there he could see groups of people.

Seeing him frown, trying to puzzle it out, Hela cocked her head to one side. "What is it?"

"The light, the colours. It just seems a little..." he searched for a description that wouldn't sound disparaging.

"... off. I know. It's partly because you're still alive. This land is not to be seen by the living. To the souls that live here, it looks quite normal."

"Where do people _live?_ "

"There are no great cities here, if that what you mean. Some souls will cluster together for a while, many stay close to my gates, waiting for their loved ones. Generally they travel, although there are some small villages which have fairly stable populations."

"It isn't what I expected. They just wander around – for eternity?"

"Once upon a time, the souls of the dead remained among the living. But that caused all sorts of problems. When Odin needed a safe place to hide me he created this dimension – this kingdom for me to rule. Beside, as you will discover, time here runs very differently to the way it does in your world."

Hela led them to the base of a small valley, onto a small rocky track. Almost imperceptibly, the temperature seemed to drop, and the atmosphere became more threatening.

In Asgardian dress that day, Harry shivered, and pulled his cloak closer around him. "Hela, where are you taking me?"

She half turned in the saddle to look back at him. "Have you ever heard of the circles of Hel?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, there was a book written centuries ago by Dante which talked about the Nine Circles of Hell."

"Well he didn't get it quite right. There are as many circles of Hel as I need there to be, but he had the fundamentals alright. We're going on an inspection of some of the other levels." Seeing his look of trepidation, she smiled. "Just stick close and you'll be fine. But be prepared. You may see some familiar faces. There's no rhyme or reason to it, but it just tends to work that way. Like they're drawn to you for some reason."

As the track rounded a bend, Harry halted momentarily.

In front of him was a great stone arch, with monstrous stone guardians to each side. Through it, all that he could see was darkness, a darkness so dense that it seemed to spill out onto the grass and the path in front like a tangible thing.

There was an inscription carved into the keystone of the arch, which Harry read with a sinking feeling of familiarity...

" _Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here..."_

TO BE CONTINUED...


	17. Chapter 17

_Hello - finally - it's the weekend (I didn't think it'd ever get here...) which means it's time to tweak, edit and update. I've given a sideways nod to Dante's Inferno in this chapter, although only if you squint._

 _I haven't said this for a while - I don't have any claim on either JKR or Marvel's characters, and do this solely for your (and my pleasure)_

 _Warnings for angst, the tortures of Hel, and Harry swearing a blue streak. Also for spoilers for Of Oaths and Promises..._

 _Please enjoy - and let me know what you think. Merrick x_

* * *

 _Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here..._

Despite Hela's assurance, Harry could not repress the shudder that went down his spine as they rode beneath the inscription. Strangely, he could still see the path in front of him, although the darkness wrapped around his neck and shoulders in strands so cold and damp that they were almost tangible touches. Shrugging them off, he tried to focus on something else.

"So Hela, how does this work? You send the bad guys down here – for how long."

"As long as it takes. Please keep up. I have people down here that keep an eye on things, but I try to get down here regularly – it doesn't do to let things slide, there are some pretty scary people down here."

"Err, yes. On that subject..."

Hela paused, turning her horse, to face him. "... go on?"

"I've met some seriously unpleasant people over my life... Hela... I have to know." He took a deep breath. "Is _he_ here?"

"Who?"

"Tom Riddle – Lord Voldemort?"

Hela pondered for a moment, then shook her head. "No. He died in battle, so he would not have come to my charge, but for him the point was moot."

"Why?"

"The souls that come to me are old, young, good, evil – but they are complete souls. The one you speak of – I had never seen a soul so destroyed. There was no place for him here."

"So – where is he?"

"His soul was cast into the void. Into limbo. There was nothing else to do with him. Such a thing had never been known in my lifetime before." She turned her horse back onto the path unaware that Harry was no longer behind her, his eye had been caught by something huddled amid the rocks above the path. Someone was up there.

Dismounting, Harry led his horse closer, picking his way carefully over the rough ground. He had been right, there was a woman crouched among the rocks. There was something strikingly familiar about her pale hair, even straggling and dirty as it was.

"Hello"

She looked up, and they both started in shock...

"Harry – Harry Potter?"

Stunned, Harry dropped to his knees, hardly believing his eyes. "Narcissa Malfoy?"

She was a mess. Her once expensive robes were tattered and filthy. She appeared to have lost her shoes at some point, and her hair hung in a matted knot over her shoulder, only its pale shade and the finely boned, huge eyed face identified her. Seeing him, her eyes filled with tears.

"Harry Potter. What happened? What are you doing in this terrible place?"

"Harry!"

He turned back, to see Hela waiting below, her look of irritation an exact match for her father's. "Just a minute Hela" He turned back to Narcissa, who was cowering among the rocks. "It's all right – I'm not... I'm just – visiting."

"HARRY!"

"Harry." As he turned to go, the desperation in Narcissa's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Harry – please... my son... Draco?"

A smile softened Harry's face as he crouched back down, taking her cold thin hand in his... "Narcissa. Draco is well. He is teaching Charms at Hogwarts, and is..." he wasn't sure whether or not Draco had every discussed his sexuality with his parents... "he is in a very happy and settled relationship."

The shadowed face lit up suddenly. "Bless you Harry. I am so pleased that you aren't ... that you aren't..."

"HARRY POTTER"

Harry winced. "I'm sorry Mrs Malfoy. I'm afraid I have to go."

She smiled, her face suddenly radiant. "Harry, you've told me everything I need to know. I was so afraid that Lucius and I had ruined his life."

Harry returned to the path, remounting with a last look over his shoulder. "How long does she have to stay here?"

Hela shrugged. "She doesn't"

"What?"

Hela rode on, but half turned in the saddle. "Those that huddle around the gateway are free to pass through, they only lack the courage to change things, just as they did in life. The woman you spoke to, she was weak in life, and in death is paralysed by the realisation that she could have changed the course of her fate while she lived, but now it is too late."

It was Harry's private opinion that the reassurance he had just given Narcissa may be just enough to allow her to leave this dismal place, but he kept that to himself, urging his mount forward, alongside Hela's.

"So where is her husband. Where is Lucius Malfoy?"

Hela frowned. "That man is a _thoroughly_ unpleasant character. He is much further down. He has a lot to work through before he can leave here."

"So that's what this place is about. Redemption, not retribution?"

Hela gave a shrug. "Mostly. Although there are some that I have difficulties imagining ever redeeming themselves." Her face was suddenly hard and angry.

"Such as?"

Hela glanced down into the valley below. Far below them, on the opposite side, set into the rock face was a heavy wooden door, which shimmered with magical wards.

"Who is in there?"

But Hela only kicked her horse on, refusing to be drawn.

ooo0ooo

Harry had no idea how long they spent among the damned. The unchanging murky light gave little or no indication of the passing of time, and strangely, he seemed to be less hungry and thirsty than he was normally, disorientating himself still further. Eventually however, Hela led him to a small gate, which she had to open magically.

Harry looked around the small courtyard curiously.

"What is this place?"

"This is my refuge. Even I cannot stay here indefinitely without rest and refreshment, and our horses are tired, as are you I would imagine. Those that dwell in this place cannot enter. We can rest here in safety".

Harry looked through the gate anxiously. Even knowing that Hela's powers protected this place, it was still difficult, knowing that many of the evil men he had faced over the years were lurking out there. Seeing his tension, Hela came to stand behind him, following his gaze.

"Believe me Harry. If anyone has to watch their back here it is I." She rested a hand on his shoulder. This place is built from my magic, but the wards were strengthened by my Father on his last visit. Come, there is food in the kitchen, and then we can rest."

The food supplies, again preserved by magic, were basic but plentiful, so it was with a contented stomach that Harry followed Hela's direction to a surprisingly well appointed bedroom where, reassured by evidence of Loki's previous occupation, Harry slept soundly.

ooo0ooo

They returned to the refuge to rest several times during their visit as they explored the lower reaches of Hela's realm. On what turned out to be their last visit Hela watched him thoughtfully as they broke their fast. Seeing her expression, Harry frowned.

"What is it?"

"I have someone that I think you ought to see again. But I warn you. His passing is still quite recent. You may not find it an easy conversation."

Harry nodded. "As you wish"

Their path that day led them down into a scene straight from one of Harry's nightmares. He stopped, rooted in horror. The mouth of a cave was full of an ever increasing quantity of treasure. Voices could be heard within as the surface of the gold bubbled and rippled. Occasionally a head or arm would surface, only to disappear again.

"It reminds me of the Lestrange Vault"

Hela smiled coolly. "What better cure for blind greed than to drown in the wealth that you craved so dearly in life." She shrugged. "All are greedy, it is our nature. We crave love, security, adventure, recognition, material wealth, acceptance. Greed in itself is not a bad thing when it drives us to strive to do better. But when it becomes an obsession. When it turns good men to beasts, blind to all else... that is different". She gestured with a thin, regal hand, and one man was dragged from the treasure hoard, to lay gasping for breath on the floor.

It took Harry a moment to recognise the exhausted man before him, wizard's robes still stained with his own blood.

Red rage flooded Harry's brain obliterating all rational thought as he recalled the last time they had met, in a private room at the Leaky Cauldron only a few days before the Convergence.

"YOU! Jones. Atticus – fucking – Jones."

Harry was off his horse and slamming Jones' limp form against the rockface before his logical mind had time to process what was happening. "YOU... this is ALL your fault you slimy greedy bastard."

Jones was cringing, gasping for breath; already weak and exhausted, the former Head of Magical Law Enforcement had been completely winded by the impact with the cliff and could only babble his apologies... "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

"Harry"

"Harry"

"Harry"

Eventually the calm voice behind him began to make itself heard. In the meantime Jones was beginning to go an alarming shade of purple.

"Harry, put him down. Please."

His hand around Jones' throat released almost involuntarily, sending him crumpling to the floor. Breathing heavily himself, Harry fought for control.

When he was capable of rational thought once again, Harry dropped down to Jones' level, trying not to look at the would on the man's throat that he had undoubtedly reopened.

"Jones." Harry's voice was still rough from his rage. "Jones I need you to look at me..." Pale, exhausted eyes met his, sparking in recognition.

"Harry Potter. Have you come to get me out of here?"

"No. You can rot here forever as far as I'm concerned." Harry took a deep breath, reminding himself that he couldn't kill a dead man. "You need to understand... I need you need to understand that what you did had consequences. Huge consequences..."

So sitting cross legged, surrounded by the damned and the despairing, under Hela's watchful and approving eye, Harry explained. About how Fletcher had absorbed the Aether, killing Mrs Figg in the process. About how Malekith had attacked Asgard, and the number of deaths that had resulted, Dalan's most of all. "He was a good man, and a good soldier. He had a wife, and three children. And he was my friend, mine, and Loki's and Thor's. Was his life worth the treasure you sought? Or the other good Asgardian warriors? Or Mrs Figgs, who wasn't even a witch, but helped The Order of the Phoenix fight Voldemort anyway? Or Loki's? Or Mine?"

Jones face was slack with horror. "You're here because of me?"

"Yes you greedy piece of scum. Malekith. The leader of the Dark Elves, the ones that..." Harry gestured to Jones' throat. "Malekith took the Aether, killing Fletcher in the process, and tried to use it to destroy the Universe as we know it. That's right Jones. Your stupidity and greed nearly destroyed the whole goddamned fucking UNIVERSE. We fought him and we stopped him, but Loki ... Loki..." Harry could go no further. Gesturing weakly to Hela he retreated to a distance to try to get a grip on himself while Hela finished the story...

ooo0ooo

Harry was silent as they rode out of the valley, finally heading for home. Eventually they paused for a moment to allow their horses a breather. He rested against the rocks, feeling the rage and frustration drain from him leaving only a bone crushing weariness. Eventually Hela's voice interrupted his reverie.

"Harry, I want to thank you for what you did today."

Harry shrugged. "If I could, I would have killed him."

Hela nodded, understanding. "In this case, I can understand your rage... I'm hoping that will help you to understand mine."

Harry opened his eyes, feeling certain that he must have missed something. "I don't understand..."

She was examining the rock face opposite, as though seeking the answer to her questions in its cracks and boulders... "Just around this corner you will find the cell that we saw on the way down" A wave of magic from her hand removed the magical wards. "Go. See. I warn you that it isn't pretty, but I hope that you will understand. After all, you love him too."

Harry sat for a moment, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself. "Odd" he said, apropos of nothing in particular, "now I come to it I'm not sure I want to know what's in there."

For a moment there was silence before Hela spoke. "Honestly. I would prefer that you know who I have in there, but I will not force you, that isn't why you are here".

The silence that followed then may have lasted minutes, or it may have been days or even weeks... but eventually Harry rose, without another word, and headed for the cell.

The door was rough wood beneath his fingers, iron hinged and heavily barred from the outside. Lifting the bar, Harry pushed it open. It had been pitch dark inside, but magical lanterns flickered to life as Harry looked cautiously into the cell and froze in horror

An old man, powerfully built, grey bearded and scarred, dressed only in leather trousers and a rough shirt, lay chained, brutally tight on the stone floor, twitching restlessly. One eye was a hollow empty socket while the other stared, mesmerised, at the ceiling above him.

If Harry had not already deduced who he was, what he saw in the ceiling told him the truth.

Odin

As he watched in horrified fascination a single drip fell from the snakes gaping jaws into the empty eye socket below. Odin's body arched off the floor, a hoarse scream escaping him. Sick to his stomach, Harry spun out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The perpetrator of Odin's torment was still resting with their horses, where he had left her. She looked up as Harry crashed around the corner, white faced.

"Hela. You have to stop this"

Her voice was icy cold and utterly without mercy. "Why do I _have_ to stop this. The punishment of the dead is _my_ responsibility Harry Potter – not yours. Beside, you were happy enough to see Jones return to the cave of gold. Why does this bother you so much?"

Honestly – Harry didn't even begin to know how to answer that question. His instinctive answer _but he's your grandfather..._ wasn't going to cut it.

"The fact that he did this to Loki cannot make this _right._ And being dead, he cannot die again. It has been more than two years since he died. How long does he have to go through this. How long is enough Hela?"

Hela's shoulders slumped. Her voice was little more than a whisper as the fury evaporated out of her. "I heard him Harry. I heard all that they did to him. Every scream, every plea for help. It is not the first time I have heard him in torment, but it was by far the worst."

"Stop it Hela, please. It won't help you... and it won't help Odin either."

She sighed heavily. "Oh very well. I will stop it to appease your tender heart. " she gestured to the silent shadowed valley. "But here he is chained and here he will remain until he understands what he has done."

Harry took a deep breath and reopened the cell door. As Hela had promised, Odin remained chained, moaning softly, but the hideous serpent embedded in the ceiling had gone.

Mounting their horses, Hela took a look at Harry's white, set, face and led them back to the path that would lead them out.

As they ascended back towards the light, Harry could not stop himself pondering the man he had just left in chains.

After a while, Hela leaned to catch his eye. "What is that Midgardian expression? A penny for your thoughts? What is it that so occupies you Harry?"

"I've been thinking. About fathers and sons. About family. All the things that Odin missed out on..." Harry had been lost in thought for some time

"What ?"

"Well, Frigga gets to put her feet up and enjoy her grandchildren. The family is at peace and all is well – leaving aside the dark elves trying to destroy the Nine Realms of course. He could be enjoying that as we speak instead of atoning for his wrongs here. And while we're on the subject, I believe the emphasis _is_ still on atonement and not on revenge."

She shrugged carelessly but her eyes were bruised and hurt and her voice raw with pain and rage. "Odin Borsson can rot there until Ragnorok for all I care, when I will bring him back with me so that he can watch his beloved golden city _burn_."

Harry's voice was suddenly gentle. "Is this for what he did to your father Hela? Or is it the vengeance of a little girl, on the Grandfather, who should have doted on you, should have held you on his knee and told you stories, not chained you down here..."

He had gone too far this time...

Hela glared back at him, green eyes blazing furiously. "Don't presume to lecture me _mortal._ This is _my_ kingdom and what I say goes."

Harry sighed gustily. " _Mortal_ again. Really? Sif finally got past that, and now here we are again. Is there an alternative insult that could be spat at me by any chance?"

Furiously Hela wheeled her horse around and galloped away in a cloud of dust.

Harry patted the neck of his restive mount. "No rush boy, we'll take a nice steady ride home and hopefully she'll have calmed down by the time we get back..."

ooo0ooo

But there was no sign of Hela when Harry and his mount returned, although her horse was tended in his stable. Harry collected a book from the library and a plate of sandwiches and an apple from the kitchen and decided on an early night.

He didn't see her again for some time...


	18. Chapter 18

_I'm sooo sorry for vanishing off the map like that - it must have been weeks since I published anything. We've had a death in the family (my husband's granny God rest her, finally called it quits at 94), a golden wedding party (congratulations to my in-laws), work is an absolute bitch at the moment, and then there's something important happening in a couple of weeks that necessitates shopping, decorations, and cooking. And phone calls for some reason. A lot of phone calls... I really hate real life sometimes. In addition, this chapter has fought me tooth and nail, and I haven't had the energy to do battle with it properly. I started off just free writing it, and ended up with nearly 5000 words of Sif, Thor and Loki's back story with analysis and a certain amount of naval gazing. It was a fascinating exercise (I have no idea where some of it even came from) but it wasn't a chapter by any stretch of the imagination. Some of the best bits are in the next part of this particular story._

 _For those that have forgotten (and I can't say I blame you), this story starts a little while after the Convergence. Harry is in a coma in Asgard, while his soul spends a hundred years with Hella in exchange for Loki's life. Loki is still unconscious in the Healing Rooms, and Thor has tasked Sif with setting things to rights between herself and Loki, if she is ever to have a chance of the future she now knows that she wants with Harry. To enable her to have a chance to think about things, Thor has announced that he is sending her away from Asgard._

 _I am being deliberately vague about the passing of time in this phase of the story, as I have no intention of writing a hundred years worth of story - and to an immortal such as Sif the passage of a hundred years is - to quote Loki "a heartbeat"._

 _The plan is to finish this by Christmas - well, by New Year anyway. I have a three chapter Christmas special which ties in with this - so I'd best pull my finger out._

 _Thank you for sticking with this. In my current stressed state all feedback is particularly appreciated._

 _Happy Christmas, Merrick x_

* * *

 _Sif's Quest - Part One_ _:_

She had never imagined that it would end like this...

Sif looked around the chamber which had been her home for centuries with no idea of when she would see it again. With so many of her possessions either in her pack, or tidied away for safe keeping there was little left to identify it as hers.

"Are you ready my dear?"

Frigga herself had come to find her. Turning sharply, Sif's composure wobbled for a moment. This woman had, over the years been so much more of a mother and friend to her than her own had ever been, it was so typical of her that she would want to be here when Sif most needed support.

"I still don't know where he's sending me?"

Frigga's smile was enigmatic, "Trust me my dear. He would never send you anywhere you would be unhappy – challenged – maybe, but unhappy – no."

Sif's eyes slid sideways, eyeing the Dowager Queen of Asgard suspiciously. "I knew it! You _do_ know where I'm going."

But Frigga was not going to be drawn...

"Do you have everything dear – don't worry. I promise we won't - what is that expression I heard Jane use – we won't rent your room while you're gone. It will all be waiting for you when you return, as will Young Harry. We will keep him safe for you."

As she pulled the heavy door closed behind her, Sif sighed. "I said goodbye to Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun this morning – and to Harry last night. I don't think goodbye has ever been this hard – and I've said enough of them over the years"

Frigga put her arms around the younger woman, hugging her tightly. "Be safe Sif. Come home to us when the time is right..."

Sif's voice was, perhaps, huskier than she was comfortable with as she allowed her forehead to rest briefly on Frigga's shoulder. "I promise... I promise"

"Come my dear – we should not keep Thor waiting, and lingering will only make this... harder".

Taking a deep breath, Sif shouldered her bundle and straightened her shoulders. "You are right, we should go."

Thor was waiting for them in his study. Rather than sitting at his desk he was pacing the floor restlessly. It had been a difficult few weeks, Sif thought, and now, with Harry sleeping, Loki still showing no sign of waking and Hermione reluctant to leave his side the full burden of government was sinking slowly onto Thor's shoulders. Broad as they were, it was a terrible weight to carry.

"Are you sure you want me to go now? Would it not be better to wait – at least until ... your brother awakes. I do not like to leave you so alone at such a difficult time – there is the palace – the city to rebuild."

"He is not alone..."

Sif had not realised that Jane was also in the room, but now the Queen of Asgard stepped forward.

"I know that we have not always seen eye to eye Sif, but believe me when I tell you that I wish you all the very best for your journeys. Don't worry, I promise he will not bear these burdens alone, but now I have to leave you to talk. Goodbye Sif, and _bon voyage."_ Kissing her formally on both cheeks, Jane left the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

"Where are you sending me My Lord?" Sif wished her voice didn't sound so ... meek.

This was as hard for Thor as it was for her, if the huskiness of his normally confident voice was anything to go by. "I am sending you to Arno"

"Arno? Why would you send me to an obscure moon of Vanaheim? I have never been there, but from what I know there is nothing but trees and mountains – a fair enough place, but uninhabited. Do you mean me to be a hermit?"

Thor smiled, Frigga's hand was warm on her shoulder.

"Nay Sif. It is indeed a fair place, but I do not send you there to meditate alone. I send you there in search of someone." Sif said nothing, but her eyes flickered in interest. "The one you seek is An-Kela"

Sif turned back to Frigga. "An-Kela. You have spoken of her before. But you spoke of her as old when you were a young maiden. Are you certain that she still lives?"

"I do not doubt it. An-Kela is the wisest woman I have ever met, and the greatest warrior. She will have much to teach you. If any can help you from this tangle in which you find yourself it is she. But bear in mind that it will not be an easy path for you to tread. Even finding her will not be simple, I am certain that she will not have left Arno, but I have no knowledge of where she may be found."

Sif nodded uncertainly. "It would be a tremendous honour to be her pupil, but without some guidance, how am I to find one woman on an empty planet? Harry may have awakened before I even speak to her."

Frigga hastened to reassure her. "You will not find her by simply wandering until you meet by chance. She will detect your presence as soon as you arrive. She will speak to you – and if you listen, draw you to her – you must learn to open your mind to what she shows you."

Sif nodded uncertainly. Frigga smiled. "You will be fine my dear. You will be alone – perhaps for a long time, but if you get into serious trouble you can always call Heimdall.

Sif shook her head. "If this is something that you and the Allfather believe I should do – then I will see it done.

There was now no sense in prolonging this any further, it was time to go. Bidding farewell to Frigga and Thor, Sif gathered her things and headed to Heimdall's observatory...

ooo0ooo

Sif landed onto the surface of Arno with a bruising crash that knocked all of the breath from her body. Such a rough landing had not been the plan, but setting someone down on a planet that consisted almost entirely of steep mountains and gullies, or dense forest had not been easy, and all things being equal, Sif thought, falling out of a tree was better than plunging off the side of a mountain. Nonetheless, the landing had hurt – she was fairly sure that she had cracked several ribs, her head hurt where she had slammed it against a branch on the way down. and there was a nasty gash on her thigh that even her leather trousers had been unable to protect her from. None of these injuries would take more than a few days to heal, but the food in her pack was limited, and she would need to hunt if she was to eat. The good news was that, even where she lay, trying to get her breath back, she could hear the sound of running water – at least she would not go thirsty .

Gathering her equipment together, wincing at the pain in her ribs as she hefted her bag, Sif set out to find somewhere to sleep. Half an hour or so upstream she found an overhanging rock with a small cave beneath, close by the stream. The turf beneath was thick and soft, and with the trees nearby she would not lack for firewood. Setting down her pack, Sif set about gathering enough wood to keep the night's chill at bay. Tomorrow, or the day after she would need to hunt, but today for now she could rest and heal.

Having eaten some of the food from her pack and refilled her waterskin, Sif wrapped herself in her cloak and settled down to sleep. Weary as she was from her injuries and the long journey across space she slid into sleep swiftly. In that twilight space between sleeping and waking, she became aware of a presence in her mind...

"Who are you child... and what do you seek...?

Just about to descend into sleep, Sif's mind stirred. "An-Kela – is that you?

Then she slept.

ooo0ooo

Sif had long ago lost track of the length of time that she had roamed the woods of Arno, but still there was no sign of An-Kela, although the presence in her dreams remained – fractured and frustratingly unclear. In fact, Sif had spoken to not a single living soul since her arrival, without a doubt this moon was truly uninhabited. Fortunately game was in plentiful supply, and Sif was skilled, so she did not go hungry, but never in her long life had she been alone for so long and now her spirit craved company. In desperation she took to replaying events and conversations in her head as she wandered, revisiting and re-examining her past. She held long and complex discussions with those she had left behind in Asgard, and those that had long since gone before her.

It occurred to her that she may lose her sanity before she found the one she sought.

Pausing by one of the many streams which fed the vast forest Sif first drank, then rested for a while on the lush grass, listening idly to the sound of water flowing swiftly over the rocks. Eventually she rose, bending to fill her waterskin which she slung over her shoulder...

...and froze.

She may have been alone for too long, but her instincts did not fail her. It may have been a noise, a movement in the trees behind her, or a subtle scent that triggered it, but Sif was certain.

She was being watched.

Spear in hand, she turned slowly, balanced – poised to strike but careful not to spook whatever it was that was tracking her. Moments passed as she scanned her surroundings, but whatever it was must was gone. Possibly one of the many small game creatures – many of them previously unfamiliar to her - which she had herself hunted. Shrugging her shoulders, she hefted her belongings and kept moving.

But the feeling would not go away, returning any number of times in the days that followed. Sometimes a rustle when there was no breath of wind to cause it, sometimes a breath, or the sound of a heavy footfall would bring her sharply to attention, heart pounding... Sif took to the trees, when she slept which was less and less often, and as the feeling of being watched increased – so did the dreams – sometimes of An-Kela, but sometimes – painfully, of those she had left behind.

" _Sif"_

 _She stirred, warm and sleepily content, wrapped securely in the strong solid body behind her... "mmm. M'asleep"_

 _Warm calloused hands moved over bare skin, slowly stirring desire, until she moaned, shifting restlessly against him "Are you sure about that?" His voice in her ear was roughened by sleep but amused_

 _She gasped, the feeling of his mouth, seeking the sensitive spots on her neck slurring his name beyond all recognition as his hands conjured magic... "H..h...haarr..."_

" _I love you Sif"_

 _As she turned into his arms, her lips seeking his, the words came to her without fear or hesitation, as they never had in the past..._

" _I love you too Harry"_

" _Sif? Sif of Asgard?" The voice in her head was of an ancient and compelling power, calling her..._

" _Where are you child... ?"_

 _She was standing on a rough and rocky path, above the treeline. The wind was piercingly cold as it whistled around her. The presence behind her was not the one that had dogged her for so long, but was instead strong, and invigorating, like the herbal drafts that Princess Hermione produced for the healing rooms- bitter but bracing._

When the sun rose, Sif picked the tallest tree she could find, and climbed carefully to the top; pushing the foliage to one side. Far in the distance the forest ended, and stark rocky slopes climbed swiftly to the sky.

At last – the mountains – the one she sought was in the mountains.

ooo0ooo

By the time Sif reached the foothills, half a moon away she was pale and drawn from lack of sleep. Whatever was tracking her had dogged every step of her journey, making it impossible for her to relax her vigilance for a moment. She was bone weary and starving, for hunting had been impossible since she had picked up her shadow and at night, when she huddled, wakeful in a tree, listening to her shadow prowling below her, the temptation to call Heimdall, to return home – to a warm soft bed, food and friends – almost overwhelmed her.

But Sif had stubborn engraved on every bone. Her friend and King had sent her on this quest, on which her future happiness depended, and she would see it completed or die in the attempt. She would not see herself dishonoured, crawling home like a beaten child... like the delicate maiden they had always believed her to be.

But she was so cold, and tired, hungry and lonely...

One morning when every bone hurt, and dragging herself down the tree and forcing herself to keep moving took almost every scrap of sheer bloody minded stubbornness she possessed, the trees began to thin out, and for the first time Sif saw an end to it all.

As she emerged, her eyes drawn irresistibly to the looming peaks before her, she shivered, drawing the hood of her cloak over her head. She had been protected in the forest, but here, on the mountainside, she could not avoid the fact that the days were shortening and the temperature dropping – looking up at the sky it was clear that it would likely snow before nightfall.

And at that moment, when she was weakened, cold and distracted, her peripheral vision limited by her hood, her pursuer finally made its move...

Without warning something huge hit her from behind with the impact of a charging bilgesnipe, knocking her flying through the air. Training kicking in as she landed, she tucking and rolling, reaching for her spear as she staggered to her feet, gasping for breath, but it was nowhere to be found. Cursing, drawing her sword, Sif realised that it had been in her hand before the creature attacked, and was probably in somewhere in the grass over by the trees. All this ran through her mind as her eyes widened fearfully at the sight of the creature that had tracked her for so very long. Like a wolf, covered with sparse matted fur, somewhere between brown and grey, the creature appeared to move as easily on two legs as four, standing at least eight feet tall on its hind legs. Gleaming yellow eyes of an almost human intelligence watched her. Around the neck, she registered, was a thick mane of longer black hair, which would make an attack to the throat difficult. The heart would need to be her target then – this was not going to be...

Sif's chain of thought was ended as the wolf like creature made its move, charging towards her on all fours with terrifying speed, powerful quarters gathering to spring for her throat. Instinctively Sif dropped at the last second, sword raised, unable to suppress a scream as the creature's jaws, aiming for her throat, locked instead into her shoulder, dragging her backwards. Then it was a whirlwind of grass and fur and flashes of sky as they tumbled backwards, its breath hot on her neck and the pain, as the teeth in her shoulder hit bone, was like nothing she had ever known...

... and then they were falling. Tumbling headlong downwards, bouncing occasionally off a larger rock – at one particularly heavy impact she heard the creature give a sharp yelp, before finally, they hit the bottom, Sif partially pinned beneath her attacker. The last thing she heard before she finally lost consciousness was the sound of bone snapping.

The creature was dead – its spine broken by one of the rocks in the fall. Pinned beneath it, blood pooling beneath a gaping wound in her shoulder, Sif lay, deeply unconscious in a crumpled heap, her left leg clearly broken.

Above them the snow began to fall...


	19. Chapter 19

_Many thanks to all of you that are still supporting this stories in spite of my disappearing for a time. Hopefully my mojo is now well and truly back, particularly because I finished my Christmas Shopping this morning, so I might have a little extra time now._

 _For the record, I do not own any of Marvel, or JK Rowling's characters - I just borrow them from the toybox occasionally. An-Kela however is all my own work._

 _Enjoy - and please let me know what you think. Merrick x_

* * *

 _Sif's Quest - Part Two :_

Sif awoke to find herself unexpectedly comfortable.

She was warm and dry – which was good. She was also free of the crushing weight of the creature that had been hunting her – which was better. Trying not to give away the fact that she was conscious, keeping her eyes closed and her face and body relaxed, she quested with her remaining senses for a clue as to what had happened since her fall.

Her leg and shoulder both hurt like a bitch, and breathing was something that required care, but she could feel the pressure of bandages where the pain was worst, and it appeared that her left thigh had also been splinted, so who or whatever had brought her here had tended her wounds. She was not wearing her armour or boots, and was covered by some kind of rough warm blanket. She could hear the crackle of a fire, but she was clearly not outside, for there was no movement of air across her face.

For all her care she had clearly failed to fool her host for they spoke without warning. "Good morning child... it is good to see you awake. Be at peace – you are safe here"

Sif frowned trying to marshal her thoughts, the voice was strangely familiar. Opening her eyes she squinted against the light, struggling to focus, wincing at the headache that resulted.

She was lying on a ledge in a small cave lit only by the fire, and a small hole in the roof above which drew the smoke upwards, keeping the air clean. There was a pot and tripod over the fire, which was currently being tended by the speaker. It was difficult to see more of them at this point, for they were turned away from her, enveloped from head to foot in a heavy grey cloak. As though sensing Sif's gaze, the figure turned, straightening, pushing the hood of her robe back with a long thin hand. She was startling, firstly for her height, and secondly for her extreme thinness. The face emerging from under the hood was breathtakingly ageless - but polished smooth – the flesh stretched tightly over the bones of the skull in a way that could have been horrifying, had it not been for the calm wisdom in the eyes, which were a true silver, and pupiled like a cat, and the welcome in her smile. Her hair, was long and straggling, a pure white, with a single streak of black behind her left ear which was distinctively pointed.

Sif blinked, frowning. "You're an elf? I haven't had much luck with elves recently"

"White elves?"

"Dark – Malekith of Svartalfheim. A small matter of his trying to destroy the Nine Realms as we know them" The woman nodded, understanding, as she seated herself on the ledge, close to Sif's feet. "Ah I see... I, on the other hand am a white elf, and no threat to you or to any these days."

"You would be surprised how many that try to kill me start by saying that". Sif's own eyes widened in sudden recognition of the eerie silver cats-eyes that she had seen so many times in her dreams...

"I know you – you are the one I seek – you are An-Kela"

The fine boned, ageless face smiled serenely. "I am indeed child. I have been expecting you... I feared that you had lost yourself forever in the forest - you would not be the first. What I did not expect was for you to land so unceremoniously – and so close to my home. The Aesir are a hardy race, but even such as you would not have survived long in the cold, injured as you are." Her rescuer produced a small cup. "Drink this – it will strengthen you, help with the pain. Your skills as a warrior must be considerable. There are few true direwolves left in the Nine Realms, most of them on Arno, but they prefer the milder climates to the south – it is rare for one to venture so far north this late in the season, although those marked their prey rarely survive the experience "

Sif closed her eyes, momentarily reliving the terrifying attack. "It has been on my heels for a very long time, drawing always closer. Of late I have had neither rest nor food, for I have not dared to stop and hunt. I assume that they prefer to kill in open spaces rather than in the dense forest."

A surprisingly strong arm slipped beneath her undamaged shoulder, helping her to sit up a little. The drink was warm and wonderfully soothing, laced with herbs and sweetened with honey. "If you have not eaten for a while, it is better to start gradually or you will make yourself ill. This will help you sleep. You have much to recover from for in addition to the creature's bite, and your broken leg, I believe that you have three broken ribs and the blow that you sustained to your head will take time to heal." Once the drink was finished, she lowered Sif back down, brushing the hair off her face in a gesture which was almost maternal.

"Sleep now child. You are safe here."

And Sif slept.

ooo0ooo

The next time Sif awoke, she felt much stronger, and the pain in her head had subsided. Her leg and shoulder still ached fiercely, but her body felt more her own again. Seeing her expression, An-Kela smiled. "You are recovering well child. Like all of your race you are strong." Careful not to jostle her injuries she helped Sif to sit up, slipping her folded cloak behind her to pad her against the wall of the cave. "Can you eat do you think?" Seeing Sif's pleasure, she smiled, bringing a small bowl of broth from the pot over the fire. "It may not be what you are used to, for I have eaten no flesh of any creature, fish or fowl or beast for many many centuries. Neither have I drunk aught but the water which flows through this cave".

Sif took a spoonful of the broth, and smiled in pleasure. "It's good" When the broth was finished, An-Kela seated herself by Sif's feet, leaning back against the cave wall. "Now that your hunger is satisfied, you will probably sleep, but in the meantime, perhaps you have questions.."

Truth be told Sif had many... "You have been appearing in my dreams" the white head nodded serenely. "You know my name, and my race, yet I am certain I never shared that information with you".

An-Kela smiled. "You are quite right. You were most wise in not divulging too much information to one who was little more than a spirit in your head. I received advance warning in a vision myself, from an old friend and pupil of mine"

"Frigga of Asgard?"

"Indeed"

"The Queen has spoken of you on many occasions and with the greatest respect and affection... you were her teacher – her mentor. Forgive me, but I understood you to be a many thousands of years old when Frigga was a young maiden..."

Her host inclined her head gracefully. "You are correct child, although you have underestimated my age somewhat. I am rather older than that, for I am the Eldest of my race, and even my memory does not extend back so far as to count the long years of my life.

I hope that you will be able to spend some time with me, for I sense that you have much to consider, and I am held to be a good listener, with some wisdom in these matters. But first you are weary once more. Sleep now, and we will speak again when you wake."

It took a surprisingly long time for Sif to heal from her injuries, for she had weakened herself during her wanderings, and even Aesir need their strength to access their healing abilities. But the time came when she was able to stand without pain or dizziness, and move carefully around the cave with the aid of a stout stick. Feeling the need to get her bearings, she followed a tunnel through a larger higher cave, towards the daylight she saw in one corner. Limping cautiously over the uneven ground, she finally stepped into the mouth of the cave and gasped in shock.

The snow must have been falling heavily, for every landmark between the cave and the forest had vanished under a covering of snow which must have come almost to Sif's waist. Clearly, even were she fit enough to do so, there would be no further journeys until it cleared.

An-Kela, who had been following at a discrete distance, now appeared at her shoulder. "The winter is here. Snowfall on these mountains are always heavy, but we are well enough where we are. I have considerable stores of dried food – more than sufficient for our needs, and we shall not want for water."

Sif shook her head, eyes never leaving the scene before her. "I have seen snow before, on the mountains of Asgard, and of Midgard – and on occasional visits to Jotunheim, but never have I seen snow like this. It is beautiful, but – strangely frightening."

"Forces such as this, which are far beyond our control, are often intimidating. Elves, Aesir, we become used to having control of our environment – it is difficult to learn to be at one with a world we have no control over."

"But what happens when it is your own heart that betrays you..." murmured Sif softly, shivering slightly in the chill, for she had not thought to bring her cloak, and the wind blowing across the front of the cave was bitterly cold. Turning carefully around, still leaning on her staff, she looked up at the taller woman behind her. "I think I'm ready to talk now..."

An-Kela nodded. "Come then, let us return to the fire."

ooo0ooo

When they were settled comfortably by the fire, Sif seated on a rough wooden seat, injured leg stretched out before her, while her host was sitting cross legged on the floor, customary grey robes pooled around her.

"Now child, tell me what it is that troubles you"

Sif struggled to marshal her fractured thoughts. "There is a man – a mortal wizard. Harry"

An-Kela smiled wryly. "In all the long and countless centuries of my life, I have heard so very many difficult, complicated and painful stories that all began with the words 'there is a man or a woman'. Elf, mortal or Aesir, love makes fools of us all. Tell me of this mortal wizard who has had such an effect on you.

Sif stared into the flames for an endless count of seconds

"I will tell you of Harry. But he is not the problem in himself."

"Go on..."

"He is close as a brother to Loki and even more so to Loki's wife Hermione, who was his childhood friend. There is... bad blood between Loki and I... centuries and centuries of bitterness and mistrust and hatred, and I do not know how to make it right, but until I do Harry and I can have no peace. I am so tired An-Kela, so tired of fighting him – of those that we both love being caught forever between us. I look at Loki and I see him settled and content, in a place of honour and power at his brother's right hand, he whose life has been an endless cycle of chaos and betrayal – he is not even Thor's brother, no true prince or Aesir but a _Frost Giant_ and I am just so _angry..."_

An-Kela had listened intently to her tirade, but now held up a hand. "Slowly now child, take a breath. Now, let us speak of this Loki. He is Frigga's second son, adopted by Odin from the wastes of Jotunheim, is that not so?"

Sif nodded, trying to steady her breathing.

"Tell me about the first time you and Loki met?"

"As a child, I must have gone in and out of the court with my father any number of time. He was a powerful landowner to the north of the realm, and a close friend of the Allfather. But the first time I truly remember was around the time I was presented to the court."

"Tell me about this presentation. It is not our custom on Vanaheim."

"When a girl child reaches womanhood, and is ready for marriage, she is presented to the Allfather at court. The intention is for her to find a husband – or at the very least, a suitable role within the court until one can be arranged for her."

An-Kela eyed Sif with a small smile. "Clearly that was not to be your destiny. What happened?"

Sif sighed. "When I first arrived, I hated it at court. My father had always wished for the son that my mother had been unable to bear him, so instead he raised me to ride and fight as well as any boy. I know that the training of shield maidens is a custom on Vanaheim – more so than Asgard I believe, for our Queen was once of that company. But the girls of my age at the court all seemed so vapid – so stupid. All they wished to do was talk of dresses and jewels and scandal. Whereas I wanted to fight – I wished to be a warrior. The other girls thought I was odd and teased me."

"So how did you meet Loki"

"There was a great feast at court. For the midsummer festival. I – I had too much mead, and had to leave the hall quickly. I was trying to find a discrete way out into the gardens when I bumped into him – literally. In my inebriated state I nearly knocked him flying."

An-Kela chuckled at the mental image... "I would imagine he was annoyed. Not a good start"

"No... actually, he was very kind. He found a secluded spot and held my hair while I was thoroughly and violently ill. Then he conjured me a cloth and a cup of water and we sat on a wall in the garden and talked of this and that until I was more comfortable ."

"You liked him."

"Yes – it seems strange to admit it now – but yes I did. He was funny and clever and hated the court as much as I did. I suppose in those days we both felt like outsiders, we spent a lot of time together in those first few weeks. He showed me the library, the gardens, the city – shared secret, magical corners of the palace that only a few knew of."

"He was fond of you it appears"

"I think he was. My Father was ecstatic, and the court whispered when they saw us together"

"Your Father hoped you would marry."

Sif shook her head, "It seems incredible now, but yes – it would have been a very good match for me, he was delighted."

An-Kela looked at her, eyes narrowed. "So he liked you, and you enjoyed his company. Your birth was sufficient that it would not have been an inappropriate match for a second prince. So what went wrong?"

Sif leaned forward to add a little more wood to the fire

"Sif?"

The younger woman looked up – knowing that this would not reflect well on her...

"I had already met his elder brother..."

"Ah – Thor. They are – very different."

Sif shook her head. "I was very fond of Loki – but Thor..."

"He is very – glamorous"

"I was – dazzled - besotted. He was this great warrior, tall, handsome, like a prince from the old tales– I was very young – and this was a man that would one day rule over the Nine Realms..."

"Hmm. And how did Loki take your interest in his brother?"

Sif studied the flames. "I didn't tell him. I should have... I should have been honest with him from the start, but..." Sif put her face in her hands for a moment.

"Go on..."

"It sounds so... I liked Loki's attentions, I was - flattered... and the more time I spent with Loki the more time I got to spend with Thor."

"And Loki was very fond of you...?"

"In his own way, I believe he loved me. No. I know he loved me. He didn't hide his feelings in those days, not in the way that he did later."

"Oh dear" sighed An-Kela sadly. "Throughout the Nine Realms, stories like this are told. Of two foolish, callow young men – sometimes friends, sometimes brothers, and the vain and heedless young woman that comes between them. I have never read one where it ends well... Did Prince Thor return your affection?"

"He was indeed young and vain and foolish. What few brains he had – well even he would tell you now that they did not live in his head. I was reckoned to be pretty enough in those days..."

"You are too modest Sif. I understand that you were accounted a great beauty – with a wealth of hair so pale that it shone like the sun. I am quite certain that Prince Thor as he was then, would have noticed you."

"He was intrigued by my interest in becoming a warrior rather than a wife – he was impressed with my skill with a blade, and my determination to have my chance. But yes – he was interested in me as a woman too – but not in the way I had hoped."

"Did he know of his little brother's feelings for you?"

"I believe that he..." Sif sighed. "To be honest – you would have to ask him that. I truly hope that he didn't appreciate the depth of Loki's affection, but in those days he could never bear to be bested – and most especially by Loki. But however you look at it, his interest in me was- strictly temporary"

"So Loki loved you – and you broke his heart?"

Sif nodded sadly

"And the man that you broke his heart for – broke yours..."

"Shattered it... It wasn't love of course, even I can see now that it was infatuation, but at the time it near enough killed me. When you are young it is _so_ passionate, _so_ intense, _so_ painful that even years after I still felt it... Why did it never occur to me before that Loki's suffering was no less than my own." Her voice dropped almost to a whisper "Then things only got worse..."

"What happened?"

"The night that Loki found out about Thor and I, there was a terrible fight before much of the court– we both said some dreadful things... the following morning – when I awoke in Thor's bed, my hair was as black as you see it now."

"Oh dear..."

"I was furious, but Thor was incandescent... he loved my hair. He always loved blondes, which is ironic when you consider that his Queen is dark, although not as dark as I am now. He went straight to his father, of course the whole court was talking of it, my reputation was in tatters..." She closed her eyes briefly, lost in her memories, seeing again, the Throne Room, hearing Odin's curt emotionless tones."

" _Loki, you have done this thing to this innocent young woman, who is under the protection of this court. It is a cruel and spiteful trick, unworthy of a prince of this realm."_

 _Loki's eyes flickered from the Allfather to Sif and back. Was that guilt? For the first time since their first meeting Sif was unable to read his expression – he who had never before concealed anything from her now hid behind a mask of ivory and emerald as he listened to his father.._

 _"The powers given to you have been vilely misused. I order you to restore the Lady Sif to her original state immediately.."_

 _"Father – skilled as I am, even I cannot give back what my brother so carelessly took..." His voice was almost bored, but was pitched to carry to the crowds of onlookers who tittered appreciatively. Sif felt hot colour scorch her face, and Thor's expression darkened._

 _Odin scowled. "What was that?"_

 _"Nothing Allfather... I am sorry. I am unable to oblige you, and the_ Lady... _" his lips curled scornfully around the title... "Sif in this matter. Beside.." he ran a contemptuous eye over her. "Don't you think it suits her? So much less... innocent..."_

 _Even with his brother's huge hand wrapped around his throat, pulling him up onto his toes Loki's impassive mask did not flicker. Odin's face on the other hand, was thunderous_

 _"You deny that you did this thing"_

 _Loki shrugged._

 _"He lies Father. Who else would do such a thing to this lady?"_

 _In that moment, Loki's eyes flickered uncertainly "Truly Brother. Is a moment's pleasure more important to you than I?"_

 _But Thor's face was resolute. "Father. I demand redress to the full extent of your justice..."_

"What happened"

"Odin ordered him point blank to change it back. Loki refused"

"The God of Mischief indeed – although I can see the pain behind the tricks. I assume that he was indeed punished for his refusal."

Sif nodded, unable to meet An-Kela's eyes. "Odin instructed Thor to restrain Loki while they sewed up his lips to prevent him casting further spells. They used a thick leather cord and a huge needle. The pain must have been terrible. From start to finish, his eyes never left mine. And he never made a sound."

"How long did they keep him like that?"

I do not know, for my father removed me from the court in disgrace. I think sometimes of what happened that day – while the pain must have been terrible, to one as proud as Loki, the humiliation before the entire court must have been worse."

Sif was silent, staring into the flames, her mind far away in both time and place...

"When I returned, years later – to become a warrior of Asgard – he was changed forever. Much later I told Hermione that he was a monster who betrayed all that he touched. At that moment, it never crossed my mind that it was I that betrayed him first..."


	20. Chapter 20

_Hello again, and it's time to leave Sif for a bit to pick up on what Harry's up to. I am still desperately trying to get this finished in time for Christmas, but it's going to be a close run thing, especially as I have mince pies to make and a cake to decorate tomorrow night._

 _Thank you once again to those who are still supporting this epic which I hereby promise faithfully to finish. Please let me know what you think - even if it's only enough already I'm losing the will to live._

 _Hope you enjoy... Christmas hugs Merrick xxx_

* * *

 _Of Fathers, Sons and Brothers – Part One:_

Harry had lost track of how long he had lived alone in the great house at the gateway to Hel since Hela's precipitous departure. At first the silence and the isolation had bothered him, but he had gradually come to appreciate it – realising that it had been the only time in his entire life that he had truly had unlimited peace and quiet to think, to read and to consider the path he wanted his future life to take.

 _Mortal or immortal? To remain in this place of peace or to return to the fray?_ After years of dodging his enemies' best attempts to kill him, to step through the doors and to fight no more. Or if he asked, Hela would return him to Midgard – to Earth as a mortal to resume his old life.

But no. The truth hit him like a bucket of cold water. When the time came for him to leave this place, all those that he had known and loved on Earth would be dead and gone – even their children would be old and grey. For good or for ill, that portion of his life was over in a single impulsive, quixotic gesture that he still could not bring himself to regret.

Harry sat curled in a window seat, watching the almost constant stream of souls passing through the courtyard, and wondered how it would feel to be one of them. It may even be that he would not be required to remain in Hel, he had after all technically died in battle, trying to save the Nine Realms – one hundred years with Hela not withstanding - he may even get to go to go to Valhalla, where he would almost certainly find his parents, and those friends that had perished in the fight against Voldemort. With a sinking feeling of dread, Harry realised that there would come a time when those still living on Earth, that he had known and loved would inevitably find their way past the room where Harry now sat...

Or he could accept Hela's offer of immortality and return to Asgard. To Hermione, Loki, Thor Jane and Frigga, and to the family that would undoubtedly have grown up around them. To walk the streets of the Golden City, argue with Loki and spend time in the Great Library or the Potions Lab with Hermione. To ride out in scarlet and gold with Thor's commission in his pocket dispensing the King's justice. To spend the mornings training with the other warriors in the training grounds

To see Sif again.

' _Aye there's the rub...'_ thought Harry wryly. Would she wait for him? Hell, would she even remember him? She had had a life in Asgard, a life that had continued very happily for a thousand years without any interference from Harry James Potter. He had sensed a subtle softening in her following his recent return, but with the Convergence looming, and Malekith trying to destroy the Nine Realms, there had been no time to resolve anything.

 _Did you mourn Sif?_ Harry thought sadly. _I wonder what they have done with my body._ It seemed too weird to contemplate that, as he sat in Hela's house, book in hand, watching the souls of the dead pass, feeling quite normal and solid, his real, physical body was lying unconscious somewhere in the palace of Asgard, while the lives of those he loved went on around him.

 _Had Loki recovered from his injuries by now? Had Hermione had her baby?_ Hela had warned him that time in Hel passed differently. Without her to advise, he had no idea how much real time had expired since his arrival. Suddenly aware of the length of time he had spent within these walls, Harry was suddenly seized with an overwhelming sense of restlessness, almost of claustrophobia. Changing from jeans and jumper into clothes more suitable for riding with a wave of his wand, Harry headed for the stables.

ooo0ooo

If there was one thing that living on Asgard, and learning to ride had taught him, it was that nothing blew away the cobwebs like an afternoon on horseback. Particularly when his mount was as wild and willing as he was that day, and the turf rolled endlessly away from him – the perfect place for a gallop. Eventually though, the ground began to slope away, and drawing his blowing mount to a halt, Harry realised that he was approaching the path that led to the gateway to the lower reaches of Hel. He thought of his last visit with Hel at his side, and of his conversation with Narcissa Malfoy, wondering whether she had finally found the courage to move on, or whether she was still tied to her grief and guilt, clinging to the fate that she believed that she deserved. That train of thought led him to consider who else was chained in that same place.

Odin

The very thought of the former Allfather of Asgard made the anger curl in his stomach, as black and poisonous as the venom that he had condemned his son to, a punishment for actions that he – Odin - was at least partly responsible for. Harry remembered that darkness, that rage. It had followed him during the difficult years leading up to the fight against Voldemort, most particularly when he had carried Slytherin's locket. The urge to return to Odin's cell, to exact revenge for all the pain that he had caused, was so strong that it was almost overwhelming - an urge that reminded him – in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Lucius Malfoy – that there was absolutely nothing to stop him doing whatever he wanted...

 _You cannot kill him, for he is already dead...no matter what you do, all he can do is suffer – just as he condemned the man that he raised as his son._

 _No one here has any expectations. You are not the Boy Who Lived, the righteous hero of the Wizarding World, the figure head for the forces of the light. Here you are free to do as you please. Hela would certainly not stop you, after all, she hates him as much as you do._

 _He's just an old man now – you can do as you wish and no one will care..._

Harry gave a deep shudder, and shook his head. Turning, he saw the shadows deepening, drawing him inexonerably towards the archway...

" _Abandon hope all ye who enter here"_

Harry had not felt this when he travelled this way in Hela's company, but now the sensation was overwhelming. Turning his mount abruptly, Harry turned, urging his back home, trying to forget, in the thrill of speed, the twisted, oily, darkness which had coiled so suddenly within him.

ooo0ooo

That night Harry had a nightmare.

Odin was chained to the floor at his feet, skin hideously blistered by the venom, writhing in agony from the combined effects of the burns and a number of vicious knife wounds that scored his flesh. His side and stomach were disfigured by a number of blackening bruises. He had a black eye and his nose and one cheekbone were clearly broken.

Harry looked down and saw, to his horror, a blood stained dagger clutched tightly in his hand.

" _Do it boy"_ gasped the man at his feet. " _Be a man, a warrior worthy of Asgard. Give me a clean death and end my suffering."_

" _Why should I?"_ Harry felt his lips move, but the voice didn't sound quite like his. " _Why should I grant you mercy? Why should I end your suffering when you showed no mercy yourself. You condemned my brother to all the torments of Hel for his deeds – you who's hands are drenched in the blood of the Nine Realms. The deaths in your ledger are legion – yet what mercy did you show your son...?"_

" _Please Harry?"_

Harry's stomach dropped, and his knees shook as he dragged his eyes away from the wall of the cell, back to the man chained at his feet, seeing to his horror that the hideously wounded and suffering figure was no longer Odin...

... It was Loki, green eyes blown wide with pain and shock.

Harry jerked himself awake with a cry on his lips to find himself in what appeared to be a bedroom in the palace of Asgard...

ooo0ooo

Harry closed his eyes, breathing deeply, attempting to steady his racing heartbeat, sweat on his skin chilling him as it dried. Taking another deep breath, he opened his eyes.

The room had not changed. Harry shook his head in confusion. _"This is a dream – this is definitely a dream."_ Still nothing changed.

Swinging his feet gingerly out of bed, Harry frowned, the style of the room was unmistakeably Asgardian, but the room was not one he could ever remember seeing before. Pulling on jeans he gingerly opened the bedroom door, onto a stairwell, only to find Hela standing in the downstairs hallway, hands on hips.

" _Harry Potter. What in the Nine Realms have you done to my house"_

Harry leaned over the banister as the light dawned. "Wait. You said the house was tuned to _your_ magic."

"Well yes. After all, it is my house. Or at least it was." She glared at the gleaming gold and marble walls as if they had personally offended her. " _Traitor"_

Harry padded past her, running his hands through sleep mussed hair, oblivious to the heat that flared briefly in Hela's eyes as she watched his shirtless rear view, broad shoulders, tapering to jeans clinging precariously to his hips.. bare feet.

"Coffee. Need coffee. Would you like one?" At her distracted nod he busied himself with coffee machine and toaster. When two steaming mugs and several slices of toast were ready on the table he sank gratefully into a seat, practically inhaling his caffeine fix. Eyeing the unusual flush in Hela's cheeks he frowned... "Are you alright.?"

Hela's colour deepened further – by her standards she was positively blushing. "I'm fine, it's warm in here. Now – would you mind telling me how you managed to turn _my_ home into some kind of Asgardian imitation."

Harry shook his head, taking another mouthful of coffee. "I have absolutely no idea. I went to bed in my usual room and woke up in Asgard. On top of my nightmare, it completely freaked me out"

Hela's eyes narrowed. "You had a nightmare? Does this happen often?"

"No, it's the first one..." his voice tailed off. "...since I got here"

Hela sipped her drink thoughtfully for several minutes, then her face cleared a little. "I think I have it... you and I are both descendents of Loki right? Our magic is very similar to his, so our magical signatures must also be quite similar. It's quite possible that – under the stress of your nightmare you were radiating magic at such an accelerated rate that it confused the enchantment in the house." She eyed Harry beadily over the top of her mug. "Tell me about your nightmare."

Harry shook his head, unwilling to go over it all again so soon. "Can we wait until a bit later please... something... happened yesterday, and I really need to discuss it with you, but it's all a little - close at the moment. I need to go grab a shower and ..." He looked down at his half dressed state as if he had only just noticed that he was wandering around Hela's house half naked. "... and put some clothes on"

Hela rose from the table, collecting the empty coffee mugs, and plate, her eyes slid, smiling over Harry's torso appreciatively. "Don't bother on my account. I've seen worse..."

Feeling suddenly like a blushing teenager again, Harry scuttled quickly from the kitchen...

ooo0ooo

By the time Harry had showered and dressed the Asgardian decor had disappeared to be replaced by... "Hela – have you been reading Charles Dickens again?"

Hela was in her usual seat by the library fire, her nose in a book. "Wilkie Collins' _The Moonstone_ actually, why?" She looked around the distinctly Victorian decor and smirked. "...Oh I see."

Harry sank into the chair opposite, leaving his boots on the floor to tuck his feet underneath him. "So where have you been? I haven't seen you since you ducked out on me that afternoon"

Hela shrugged, reluctantly consigning her book to a convenient side table, now decked with a floor length cloth and a plaster cherub holding a table lamp, which she eyed with disfavour. "I must get this book finished and try something new."

Harry grinned. "For the love of God stay away from _1984_ or I'm moving my stuff into the stables. _High Rise_ might be fun. It's set in a swanky tower block in the 1970s. It all goes to hell, but the building is ok – at the beginning anyway."

Hela shuddered. "I tried _1984._ It's a great book, but you're right, the effect on the decor was catastrophic. I also learned my lesson when I dabbled with the whole gothic romance thing. I ploughed through _The Monk, The Mysteries of Udolpho, The Lair of the White Worm and the Castle of Otranto_ in quick succession. Given that this house stands at the gates of the afterlife, it gave the whole 'classic haunted house' thing a whole new dimension. Even I was sleeping with the light on and I'm the Queen of the goddammed underworld?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, enjoying the warmth of the fire, the last of the lingering tension between them dispelled in laughter. Eventually though, it dawned on him that Hela had dodged his question..."

"So.. err... where _did_ you go? You seem to have been gone for ages."

She smiled vaguely. "Probably longer than you think... I've been busy travelling the Nine Realms; I hid in the branches of Yggdrasil for a while, and dropped in on Asgard to check on the family."

Harry shot forward, eyes alight. "Asgard! You've been to Asgard? Why didn't you tell me?" Suddenly dread seized him, as his eyes widened. "Is everything alright?"

Hela reached forward and tapped him on the knee. "Relax Harry. Everything is fine. I can't tell you too much without breaking the rules, but everyone is fine, and sends their love."

Harry hardly dared to ask. "Did you see Sif?"

Hela leaned back into her chair. "I didn't Harry, I'm sorry. From what I can hear no-one's seen her since a week or two after you arrived here. I suspect that Uncle Thor and Grandma know, but if they do they're keeping schtum."

Harry flopped limply back into his seat, face falling. "I knew it. She's moved on."

 _It would be tempting_... thought Hela ... _and probably quite easy, to convince him that this woman had indeed given up on him_ , but if Harry was to stay it had to be his free choice. She would be no-one's second choice. "I don't believe so Harry. I believe that Uncle Thor may have sent her away somewhere. I see no reason why you should worry. If she truly cares for you she will be waiting. Now, while we are on the subject of Asgard, what were you going to tell you about your dream last night which managed to spontaneously hijack the decor of my house." She looked around at the overblown Victorian decor and shuddered, "although maybe I liked the gold and marble better. At least it doesn't give me a headache." She paused, concentrating hard. For a disorientating moment their entire surroundings blurred and shifted in a way that made Harry wince and close his eyes, feeling suddenly nauseous. When he opened his eyes again he found himself back in the house he had first arrived in – what he had come to think of as 'Agatha Christie Country House'. Sighing with relief they both made themselves comfortable in their respective armchairs.

"Now tell me..."

Harry sighed. "Before I tell you about the nightmare, I suppose I'd better tell you about yesterday afternoon."

"Go on..."

"Since you... left... I've pretty much stayed put. I've slept, watched movies, had a really serious rummage through your library – you have some fascinating stuff on White and Dark Elf Magic by the way – and I watch _them..."_ he gestured to the constant stream of souls in the courtyard outside, "... _a lot_. And I thought. I've never had that much time on my own, with nothing urgent to do before. Never had that much time to think"

Hela smiled, nodding. "It's quite an experience I admit I was pretty upset with you when I left, but I stayed away for so long, not because I was upset, but because I figured you could use some time. You've been through a lot in your tiny mortal lifetime, it's really quite astonishing..." She caught herself suddenly, before scowling ferociously at Harry. "Well done Harry... nicely deflected. You almost had me there. Now. What. Happened. Yesterday?"

Harry sighed gustily. "I finally reached the point at which the walls started to close in, so I borrowed a horse from the stables." He looked up a little apologetic... "I'm sorry, I would've preferred to ask you first but..."

Hela shrugged carelessly. "Don't worry about it Harry. When you leave someone in sole occupation of your house for a long time you kind of expect them to make themselves at home. .. Carry on... Oh. Did you fall off?"

Harry shook his head. "We had a fantastic gallop. I can't think why I didn't think of it before... but then..."

"What happened?"

The ground was a little rougher, started to slope away, so I pulled up, took a breather. That was when I realised where I was. I was on the path to ... the gate... you know?" When Hela nodded, her face intent now, he continued. "While we got our breath back I got to thinking about our last visit, and who I saw there... especially ... especially your grandfather"

"Odin – and he isn't my grandfather"

"Okay. I got to thinking about you... Odin, and the way he treated Loki and I – I was just so – _angry._ Not just my normal angry – I mean what he did was beyond awful, but _this_ was far beyond just angry. It was like.." he struggled to put the sensation into words.

"...like something coiling inside you. Black – and evil."

Harry nodded, recognising the description immediately. "I was so angry. I just wanted to go to back down there – to that cell, and just – just beat the hell out of him – give him a taste of his own medicine. I must have dithered there for ages before I looked over to the gateway, and it just seemed as though the shadows were reaching for me. I've seen it before, but then it was just a trick – smoke and mirrors meant to frighten simple village folk and children. This was – real." He took a deep breath. "And it frightened the shit out of me. I don't mind admitting that I turned around and my horse and I headed home hell for leather." He shook his head. "So much for a warrior of Asgard and the saviour of the wizarding world. Running like a rabbit from the bogey man. I didn't have you fooled for a moment, did I?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "Anyone who can do what you have done must have stared into the abyss a time or two. Your public face… there was always something dark lurking behind it. I believe there is a saying that if you stare into the abyss…"

"… eventually the abyss stares into you"

She nodded. "There is darkness within us all, and there are parts of this realm which draw energy from that darkness. The entrance to the deep realms is perhaps the strongest of them all. When you were with me you were protected, but alone, I'm sorry – I should have warned you. Now. Tell me of your nightmare."

Harry told her, struggling over the details of the injuries he had inflicted on Odin, and Odin's mysterious transformation into Loki... when he had finished he rubbed his hand through his hair in confusion. "... and then I woke up and - well it seemed as though I was back in Asgard – I was completely freaked out..."

"I'm not surprised. Classic nightmare material, but scary nonetheless. Do you have any idea what your subconscious is trying to tell you?"

"Yes." Harry's eyes met Hela's squarely, his jaw set stubbornly. "I have to go back to the dark realms and have a serious conversation with your Grandfather..."


	21. Chapter 21

Happy Christmas to all those of you that are celebrating at the moment :) . Daughter Husband and I are all staying with his family at the moment, so I have been trying to write as much as possible between the presents, too much food, too much alcohol and the usual family squabbles. Wherever you are and whatever you are doing the compliments of the season to you all.

Just found out today that my daughter's halls of residence in Leeds are underwater :(. Her flat is on the second floor so she will be alright, but a special thought to all my readers in the North of England that are still flooded.

With love. Merrick xxx

* * *

 **Sif's Quest – Part Three**

 _Her young guest spoke little in the days following her first revelations. She still slept for the best part of the day, allowing her body to regain its former strength. As the winter still confined them indoors much of her waking hours were spent going through a rigorous series of exercises in the outer cave, rebuilding her muscles' strength and flexibility. Sometimes the two women would practice or spar together, the sound of blade on blade echoing around the cave for the first time in long centuries. The Eldest would laugh at the look of surprise on Sif's face when she realised the strength and skill remaining in her mentor's deceptively frail looking form._

 _When her body was active, An-Kela noted, Sif's face would be clear, focussed and untroubled, but her young guest's sleep was often broken, and in moments of relaxation her eyes were still deeply troubled. One morning, when she awoke late, sluggish and heavy eyed, bespeaking another restless night, An-Kela knew that it was time to speak again..._

ooo0ooo

"Tell me of the Jotuns, Sif, or the Frost Giants as you call them."

Without thinking, Sif's lip curled in distaste. "The Frost Giants are the greatest enemies of the Aesir. They are a primitive, brutal race, violent and uncivilised. They are terrible in battle – their very touch will freeze and blacken Aesir flesh. As a child I grew up hearing the musicians sing songs of the Allfather's great victories over Laufey, evil King of the Frost Giants."

"Laufey, the evil King of the Frost Giants. You portray him as a brutal violent monster, like all of his race. I have seen them once, many centuries ago, great hulking creatures, blue skinned and red eyed. An apt creature for your childhood tales - they must have been terrifying."

Sif nodded. "I remember enjoying the tales, but being frightened once my nurse had put me to bed. I sometimes used to make her stay in my room until I fell asleep. And Thor would tease Loki about the fact that he had been terrified of the frost giants when he was a child. He would have nightmares apparently, and run to Thor's bed..."

An-Kela nodded, noting, but not commenting on the fact that the youngest son of Odin would run to his elder brother for comfort rather than his parents. "The monster under the bed. How strange that no matter where you travel in the Nine Realms, there is always a monster under the bed."

Sif smiled, relaxed. I wonder who the Frost Giant equivalent is. Odin perhaps?

An-Kala's eyes hardened. "Ah yes. Odin the Child Stealer"

Sif looked up at her, wide eyed. "... He didn't... He meant…. I am certain that he did it for the best."

"The best for Asgard, or the best for Loki? Did he look into those scarlet eyes and feel only love and compassion for an abandoned infant, helpless and suffering, or did he see an opportunity far in the future for his puppet on the throne of Jotunheim, a weapon to be used against his greatest enemy?

Very well, let us pause for a moment to consider. You tell me that as a child Loki was terrified of the Frost Giants. As he grew to manhood, he continued in the belief that he had been raised in – that the Frost Giants were brutal savages, to be mistrusted, and fought whenever necessary."

"Yes"

And he continued in this belief for over a thousand years, until quite without warning something happened didn't it?"

"He discovered the truth – while accompanying his brother on a raid on Jotunheim. I did not find out what had occurred until later, after his fall from the Bifrost. For something so catastrophic, he hid it well..."

"That he is not Aesir at all but the son of the demon of his childhood. The rejected and abandoned son of Laufey, stolen by Odin for his potential future use as a diplomatic pawn"

"I do not think that the Queen ever felt thus..."

"No – I would agree with you. I believe that Frigga was the reason that Loki was raised in ignorance, as a Prince of Asgard, rather than put back on the throne of Jotunheim as Odin's puppet. Frigga told me once that from the moment Odin placed him in her arms, Loki was hers. But when the truth came out – as the truth always must in the end – it must have felt like the end of the world for Loki. To his already troubled mind, it must have answered many questions."

Sif frowned. " The Norns know that Hermione – Loki's wife – and I have never been close, but I remember very vividly something that she once said..."

"Go on"

"She said that Loki had been doomed to fail from the moment Odin took him into his arms that day in Jotunheim. What was that expression she used – the black sheep of the family, forever isolated by his inability to meet impossible expectations. That was not at fault, just different, with strengths and weaknesses just has Thor has strengths and weaknesses"

The Elder watched her steadily. "Do you agree?"

Sif shrugged. Loki was always difficult, awkward. His skills, magic – strategy… " her lip curled distastefully "they were more fitting to a woman than a prince and a warrior." She looked up to see her mentor watching her thoughtfully, a small frown between her brows. "What is it? He was no warrior, but I cannot see that he was as Hermione said - doomed to fail. If he had spent less time with his nose in a book, or muttering spells in a corner he might not have fallen behind as he did."

An-Kela sat silently, watching the flames casting flickering shadows upon the walls

"Do you trust me child?"

Sif blinked, surprised. "I do… Why?"

"Because I wish you to try something. Magic, I suppose you would call it." When Sif did not immediately demur she continued. "Ancient Midgardian tribes would practice something of this nature using herbs alone, which they called a vision quest. This however, is a stronger, purer form which requires an ancient power to guide it."

"Like yours?" An-Kela nodded. "What will happen, what must I do?"

An-Kela leaned back against the wall. "The elves refer to this as a Soul Walking. Before we begin I will give you an infusion of herbs which will serve only to relax your mind and body. In this state I will guide your spirit from your body, which will allow you to move through time and space without hindrance, observing events, and even dwelling briefly within the mind of another, experiencing their thoughts and emotions."

"Loki too has powers. Will he be aware of my presence in his mind?"

An-Kela shook her head. "What you will see are but shadows of the past. While your experiences will feel very real, you will have no power to influence or change events. I believe it will give you a more accurate insight into past events, and their influence. You may find it disturbing, but you will not be at any physical risk."

Sif settled herself cross legged by the fire "What do I do?"

An-Kela drew a small flask out of her robe. "First you must drink this, then you should close your eyes and focus on my voice…"

ooo0ooo

 _It took longer than An-Kela had anticipated to put Sif into the state necessary to begin her Walk, for it was in her nature to control rather than to be controlled, and her resistance to An-Kela's powers was considerable. Eventually though, The Elder felt it, the subtle relaxing, the loosening of bonds beyond the comprehension or detection of all but the most skilled._

When the moment came, Sif could feel her mentor's magic drawing her. It should have been disconcerting, but such was Sif's state of deep relaxation that she was able to follow the Elf's lead without fear or hesitation….

Opening her eyes, she looked around at the familiar surroundings of the Palace of Asgard with a smile, noting with interests the subtle differences between her present location and the palace she had left behind.

" _Thor, Thor where are you?" Sif's eyes widened as a slender black haired boy hurtled around the corner, pausing to look around in confusion._

" _How is this possible?" Sif murmured._

" _What is the matter child?" An-Kela appeared at her side, looking exactly as she had by the fire that morning._

" _This is not… That is Loki as a boy. But when he was this age, I did not know him – I was still with my nurse in my father's castle."_

" _That is because your soul seeks not your past but his. To enter his mind you will need to be closer though, come…" Young Loki had wandered disconsolately around the corner, clearly giving up on any hope of catching his elder brother._

" _Well look what we have here._ Princess _Loki. Should you not be practicing your sewing with the other little girls….?" Hearing voices raised in the distance Sif and An-Kela hurried around the corner. Seeing the scene before them, both women stopped in their tracks. Three boys,roughly dressed, and clearly older and larger than Loki surrounded him, trapping him against the stable wall. One of them staggered back slightly as Loki pushed him away, his voice shrill with indignation. "You leave me alone Ras Arnasson, or my father will hear of this. You will regret laying your filthy hands on a prince of ….." His protests were cut off sharply by a large hand grabbing the collar of his tunic roughly, hauling him off his feet and slamming him against the wall knocking the breath from his lungs._

" _What are you going to do to stop me_ Princess? Y _ou are weak, pathetic – an embarrassment to your brother and to Asgard. No doubt you will grow up to be argr too." Seeing his confusion Loki's tormentors laughed coarsely. "He doesn't know what it means…. It means that you are no true warrior, that you allow another warrior to possess you – as if you were a woman. The lowest of the low. Shamed, disgraced."_

 _Spitting in his tormentor's face may not have been a good idea, thought Sif, wincing as a heavy blow to the stomach sent Loki crashing to the floor gasping for breath, but the boy had guts even at that age. In the distance she could hear hurried footfalls, causing the three bullies to look up. Leaning down the largest of the three – Ras Arnasson she remembered – leaned down, pushing his face into Loki's._

" _We'll be back little princess, and next time we'll give you a demonstration of what argr means. Cala and Dan will be happy to hold you down while I take my pleasure of you…. You need to know your place – on your back for better men…"_

" _Loki! Confound it where is the boy? Why can he not keep up like you Fandrall?" The voice coming from around the corner was younger than Sif's earliest memories, but utterly distinctive. Clearly Arnasson and his cronies recognised it too, for with a final vicious kick to Loki's ribs, they fled from the scene just as Thor and Fandrall appeared, halting as they espied Loki huddled on the floor, bloodied and gasping._

" _Loki." Striding forward Thor hauled his brother roughly to his feet, careless of his injuries. "What have you been doing?"_

 _His little brother straightened, pulling his clothes back into order, hiding his fear behind a mask of indifference. "It is nothing brother. Do not worry yourself". Even at that age the note of sarcasm was unmistakable._

 _Instead of the concern Sif had expected Thor's face showed nothing but irritation. "You must learn to defend yourself brother. You should try harder." He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Get yourself to Mother, she will tend your injuries. Come Fandrall, let us go and watch the Warriors practicing." Turning on their heels Thor and Fandrall left Loki leaning weakly against the wall – alone._

 _Stepping back Sif shook her head. "I need to see no more of this. I do not need to be within his mind to understand how he is feeling at this time for it is writ clear upon his face. I do not recognise Thor in this. If this was how he behaved towards his brother in the past I begin to realise that Loki's antagonism towards him was not simply rooted in jealousy. I do not understand how he could be so indifferent to Loki's fear and suffering."_

" _Do not be too hard on your friend Sif. Remember that he too is but a boy." Reaching up An-Kela made a complicated motion with her left hand, muttering an incantation as she did so. Sif's stomach churned as everything around her dropped and spun sickeningly, to deposit them in an austere stone chamber in the Palace. Sif looked around her, wide eyed. "This is the Allfather's study."_

 _An-Kela pulled a face. "This is the inner sanctum of the Allfather of Asgard? My cave is more luxurious than this cell"_

" _It now belongs to Thor. The desk and chair are the same, but the whole ambiance is much more comfortable. His most revolutionary innovation was the conference table, to enable him to confer with his advisors on a more informal basis, and in some comfort. On the rare occasions that Odin Allfather consulted with anyone, he preferred to keep them standing". Sif scowled. "He liked to preserve the formalities and distinctions of rank. I am not sure why we are here though."_

 _An-Kela smiled mysteriously. "Have patience child". The two women fell silent as Odin stalked in, a ferocious frown on his already grim face._

" _Loki" murmured Sif. "Only Loki could put such a frown on the Allfather's face". Sure enough, only moments later the door opened once more to admit Frigga and her youngest son._

" _Now Sif" murmured An-Kela_

 _There was no discomfort, only a sudden dragging sensation around her diaphragm, not dissimilar to the experience of being apparated by Harry. Arriving in Loki's head however, was less comfortable. The unfamiliar body felt uncomfortable and restrictive, and the sheer intensity of Loki's frustration would give her a headache very soon. Looking around from Loki's unfamiliar height she realised that Frigga was speaking to Odin in impassioned tones._

" _Odin please. See reason. There is so much that he could learn on Vanaheim. He has such talent – it would be a shame to waste it."_

 _The King of Asgard rubbed his forehead wearily. Both Sif and Loki were only too aware of how much he hated quarrelling with his wife. Relaxing, gingerly opening herself up a little, Sif was overwhelmed by the force of Loki's frustration, his fear of his father, warring with a desperate desire for his approval. "The waste lies in the boy frittering his time away on women's arts when Tyr is most disappointed by his progress as a warrior, or lack of it. He shows none of his brother's prowess, moreover the other young warriors clearly mistrust him for he appears incapable of inspiring the love and loyalty that Thor does."_

 _The weight of misery and rejection almost crushed her. How could Odin have treated his youngest son so callously, being so dismissive of Loki's achievements and abilities whilst holding up his weaknesses against Thor's strengths so harshly. It was clear that all his son desired was his father's affection and appreciation – surely the natural right of any child from their parent. So absorbed was Sif that she had again failed to listen to the conversation. Frigga's hand was warm on Loki's shoulder._

" _Loki, dear, why don't you go to supper so that your father and I may discuss this further. Crushed and humiliated Loki closed the door, hearing his parents raised voices as he ambled down the corridor toward the dining hall, knowing that his mother would distress herself to no effect, on his behalf, and that this would only serve to increase his father's antagonism towards him further. Sighing, Loki strode through the dining hall, heading for his place at the top table, aware of the suspicious looks and whispered conversations around him. Even Thor and his cronies eyed him briefly, before returning to a detailed analysis of the afternoon's hunting trip. Sighing, Loki pulled a book from his pocket, hiding the sting beneath a mask of utter indifference._

 _There was a strange wrenching sensation and Sif found herself standing at the back of the hall beside her mentor once more. Shaking her head she watched the isolated figure at the top table through narrowed eyes. "An-Kela… I …." But her teacher held up her hand._

" _One moment child. There is more to see before we talk…" The world swirled once more and Sif shivered as she found herself in the frigid wastes of Jotunheim._

 _Returning to the turmoil of Loki's mind, Sif found a burning sense of rage and injustice which had not been there before. She had never experienced such a maelstrom of white hot anger – against Thor who had betrayed and dismissed him, against the entire realm, against Frigga who despite all of her words of support still could not help him, but most of all against his father, who was unable to see how utterly unready his eldest son was to rule Asgard and the Nine Realms. Helpless Sif rode out the turmoil of rage and increasing apprehension in Loki's head as he struggled to make his hotheaded oaf of a brother see reason – as he tried to get them out alive. This had not gone as he had planned it – even he had underestimated his brother's pigheaded fury._

 _When battle began however, Sif could not help but marvel at the utter calm and focus which had replaced the turmoil. Loki fought like one possessed, but his mind was a thing of organised and subtle beauty…_

 _Which shattered in a moment,at the touch of an icy blue hand._

 _There were no words to describe his emotions as his brain – struggling to comprehend why the searing agony of deep frostbite did not come as expected – looked down to see the same flush of patterned blue on his own flesh._

 _Fear. Utter, paralysing fear. Firstly that this was some kind of curse that the giant had put upon him, but seeing the blank confusion in his opponent's face – understanding as his mind cracked open, reeling in shocked understanding._

 _Everything he had ever known about himself was a lie_

 _And as his mind cracked open, Sif slipped and fell…_

 _Tumbling through a cacophony of memories, some familiar, some not. Tumbling through utter darkness to land in a heap in a cold damp stone cell._

 _She – or rather he – was chained. The now familiar whirl of Loki's thoughts was gone. Now there was only agony – of flayed skin, of damaged organs and broken bones. Only cold and hunger and thirst and the knowledge that there was nothing else. That they would use his powers of healing against him. Tortured and broken, then allowed to heal, knowing that only further agony awaited him._

 _That no one was coming for him. He was alone – and one name alone loomed in his shattered consciousness._

 _Thanos._

"Sif… Sif… Where are you child. Come back to me…."

 _The commanding voice took a moment to penetrate to Sif's cowering spirit, but eventually she was able to lock onto it, feeling the now familiar feeling of disengagement as she spun back through a vortex of stars to land, with what felt like bruising force, back into her own body._

ooo0ooo

When Sif awoke, she was back in her bed, wrapped in several blankets, with An-Kela watching over her, acute anxiety clear on her face.

"An-Kela?" Sif muttered. "Am I back or is this another dream?"

The Elder closed her eyes in relief. "Thank the Norns you are back in your right mind again. I am sorry child. In all the centuries I have guided Soul Walkers I have never had that happen before. I feared that your soul would be forever lost wandering the void. Since you returned you have been unconscious – speaking in your delirium of horrors I cannot begin to describe. Where in the Nine did you go Child?" Seeing Sif struggling to answer she held up a hand to stop her. "No – first you must eat and drink for your strength has been far more depleted than it should have been by this experience. When you are fed and rested we will discuss all that you saw and felt…."

ooo0ooo

That evening when Sif was feeling better, she returned to the fireside, to discuss her experiences with her mentor.

"My curiosity – always met besetting sin – is burning to understand what befell you during the time when you were lost from my sight, but my role as your guide in this Walk compels me to review your experiences in a more structured manner. We have already spoken briefly of the first vision – of the three boys that threatened Loki. I recall that you were angry with the way that Thor behaved. In light of your later visions, do you have anything further to add?"

As her mentor had taught her Sif firmly quelled her initial indignation , reviewing her memories and attempting to see them without the red haze of indignation.

"Thor and his Father were always close, and I can see now that Thor was simply taking his cues from Odin."

"Go on…"

"While this is regrettable in any family, this inability to form his own judgement was inexcusable in a future King and Allfather. To be fair, since the incident with the Chitauri, Thor has decided where his loyalties truly lie – and has held to that, even to the extent of formally deposing his Father."

A-Kela smiled. "Well done child, you have learned much it seems. Now, let us look at the first part of your second vision, in Odin's study. What emotions were you picking up?"

"I had anticipated anger. There was frustration but that was all. What he sought most desperately was for his Father to value him - to love him – simply for _himself_ – he is no fool, he knows that he is academically brilliant and powerfully magical, but in his Father's eyes these skills counted for nothing against Thor's physical strength and leadership abilities."

"Odin felt that Loki simply wasn't trying?"

"I think so. That all those things that…" Sif struggled to put her train of thought into words… "Those things that made Loki, _Loki_ were just distractions – trivialities."

"And later – in the dining hall?"

Sif looked as though she was about to speak, then changed her mind, frowning

"Go on Child…"

"I was about to say that he was lonely - but that cannot be"

"Why not?"

"Because he lived in the Palace of Asgard. He was a Royal Prince. Aside from the Allfather, and the Queen and Thor, he was surrounded by people. How could he have been lonely, when he never lacked for company?"

"So who were his closest friends?"

Sif searched her memory, trying to recall a time when she had seen the younger Prince of Asgard enjoying the company of friends and found it harder than she had anticipated.

"Well, there was Thor – and he spent a lot of time with us – with Fandrall, Hogun, Volstagg and I."

The strange silver eyes seemed to look straight into her soul... "So he had no real friends of his own? Tell me Sif. Did you enjoy his company? Did you value him as a companion as you had in the past? Or was he simply your friend's awkward difficult little brother by then.?"

Sif stared into the flickering green and blue flames, remembering the number of times that they had mocked Loki for his use of magic and for the way that he would always use tricks and strategy as an alternative to brute force, even when it had been that very magic and intelligence which had so often got them out of trouble.

She found that she couldn't look up. Couldn't see the expression on her mentor's ancient, compassionate face...

"He was never one of us..." she whispered. "We used him, but he was never a part of our company... He was odd – different, and we never allowed him to forget it."

An-Kela's voice was gentle. She never pushed, never became frustrated when Sif was stubborn or slow to understand.

"We have a saying among my people, that loneliness is not about the number of people that surround you, but about how many of them understand and value you. So tell me now Sif. As he grew up, who understood and valued Loki?"

The silence stretched into infinity, as Sif raked back, through distant memory, and the revelations of her recent visions. "The Queen – his mother."

"That is all?"

"I think so – yes. He used to spend time in the city with an alchemist and goldsmith, Gayan and his wife. And he would go to others – scholars in the city…to study sometimes." She was silent for a moment… "And I did… For a while…"

"So – back to the my original question..."

Sif shook her head slowly. "He was always the outsider. He was so terribly, terribly lonely. Hermione was right. He was the black sheep of the family - and when he was pushed hard enough, the black sheep finally became a wolf."

An-Kela nodded, satisfied. "Would you prefer child, to look at the final vision in the morning when you are rested?"

Relieved Sif nodded, glad to defer having to re-examine the horrors of that dark cell.

"Then before we retire, let us speak for a moment of this mortal witch that is now a princess of Asgard. Tell me a little of Loki's wife. I understand from Frigga that they met on Midgard, and that she is responsible for his recovery?"

Her pupil shook her head ruefully. "When I first met her I took her for an innocent, for a foolish mortal girl bewitched by a handsome face and a smooth tongue. I took her for his victim – his dupe."

"You were wrong?"

Sif tipped her head back and gave the first true, honest laugh that her teacher had heard from her.

"I admit it – I was blind and utterly foolish. She is powerfully magical, clever and as strong as steel. She is also a woman of great courage and is fiercely loyal to him, even more so now, that I understand that she carries their child. Harry was her childhood friend, and her loyalty to him is nearly as great. She was most displeased when she discovered our relationship - although…"

"Although?"

Sif frowned thinking back to the scene behind the training ground and Hermione, wand in hand, eyes blazing. "…it's strange. I hadn't thought of this before, but from things that Harry has dropped into the conversation – I think that Loki was the one that - I believe the expression is 'talked her down' that day."

"So he does not object to your relationship?"

Sif's frown deepened. "It does not appear so. He teases Harry, I know, but I do not believe that either Thor or Loki have a problem with Harry and I being together. In fact I know that Thor does not object, otherwise I would not be here at all."

"An interesting thought to ponder" said An-Kela rising. "Bed Child. You have had a long day"

ooo0ooo

The events of the day had indeed exhausted Sif, but in spite of her best efforts, sleep eluded her. She spent the night reliving her visions, tossing and turning, going over her own memories in the light of her new understanding. Eventually she gave up, leaving her bed to return to the fire. Prodding the it into life, she was unaware of the silver eyes watching her from the back of the cave

"I am sorry Child, I meant for today's experience to bring you clarity and understanding, not further anxiety."

Sif started. "I didn't see you An-Kela, I must be getting soft."

The Elder seated herself in her usual cross legged position by the fire. "Bad dreams Child?"

Sif nodded, gazing into the fire, her eyes deeply troubled

"Where did you go? When you fell."

Sif stirred the fire with a stick, watching the flames licking around it. "Did you know about Loki's attempt to kill himself?"

"He fell from the Rainbow Bridge - Frigga spent some time with me after it happened"

"I was one of her escort. She eluded us - disappeared" Sif smiled. "We never told Odin. Not that we could have told him much, we had no idea where she went. Now I know..."

"Go on..."

"Loki fell through the void, and I fell into his memories. I found myself - still within his head - chained in a dungeon. He fell into the hands of the Chitauri. They tortured him An-Kela. An Aesir warrior is trained to withstand torture, but to use his own healing ability against him? To destroy him, allow him to heal again, only to torture him once more. He knew that no one could find him, that no one would come for him. So he did the only thing he could - he made a deal." She shook her head "He believed he was a monster. That he had nothing left to fight for. I have never known despair like it."

"Now you understand."

Sif nodded. "Now I understand." She stretched, yawning. "I believe I may be able to sleep now."

"Sleep well Child"

Sif smiled, her eyes warm and relaxed. "I will. Goodnight"

ooo0ooo

Sif remained with An-Kela for some time, waiting for the weather to clear. It was no hardship to spend time with the elf who was happy to share her skills and knowledge with so willing a pupil, but eventually there came a time when the wind across the front of the cave was noticeably milder. An-Kela looked up at the sky, sniffing the breeze.

"The weather is changing. If the thaw holds you will be able to leave the cave soon".

"I can go home…" Catching her mentor's eye, Sif smiled. "I have to go home… I need to make things right." Lifting her chin she added. "I am ready to make things right"

In the end there was no need for Sif to wait. Two days later thunder and lightening crackled across the mountain peaks and the heavens opened; by the following morning the countryside around the cave was drenched and muddy.

Bidding an affectionate goodbye to her mentor, Sif shouldered her gear, and, heading for the high ground, staff in hand to help with the mud, she finally took the paths that led home."

 _Sif will return home in the second chapter of "A Tale of Three Christmases" to be published before New Year. There is still one more chapter of Harry's story to come._

 _Many thanks to all those of you that are still sticking with this, which hasn't ended up exactly as I originally intended when I started to write it what feels like years ago. Hang in there, we're nearly there. Please don't forget to let me know what you think. M x_


	22. Chapter 22

HAPPY 2016 TO YOU ALL. And another huge thank you for sticking with this story. We are nearly there now. This is the final story of Third Brother. As they both conveniently take place at Christmas, or the Asgardian equivalent thereof, they will form the second and third chapters of my final three shot " _A Tale of Three Christmases"_

As always, I have no claim on either JKR or Marvel's characters. I make no money from this, and write solely for my pleasure and hopefully yours.

* * *

 _ **Of Fathers Sons and Brothers - Part Two.**_

" _Yes." Harry's eyes met Hela's squarely, his jaw set stubbornly. "I have to go back to the dark realms and have a serious conversation with your Grandfather..."_

Hela leaned back in her chair, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl which was eerily familiar to Harry.

"No. You need to stay away from him Harry. He poisons all that he touches."

"Hela?"

"No Harry. Enough. Let it go. Leave Odin Borsson to me..."

She picked up her book, ending the conversation abruptly.

ooo0ooo

A week passed in which Harry rode out every day, although he was careful to stay away from the path to the Dark Realms. He also began to practice a sequence of exercises taught him by Dalan and Loki, to build strength and to improve balance and coordination, as he had no one to train with. Sometimes he would practice for hours, losing himself in the pace and the rhythm, only to look up and find Hela watching him, with no memory of how long she had been standing there. She would make an offhanded remark – offer him a drink, to watch a movie, and the moment would be broken...

Spending all day out on horseback and all evening practicing meant that every night Harry went to bed physically exhausted... But still every night the nightmares came.

Eventually he awoke from a particularly memorable one, in which he had been talking to Odin in the Throne Room of Asgard when he abruptly turned into Voldemort. Harry woke with a cry, in a cold sweat. He had turned the house into a facsimile of Hogwarts School for the second time that week.

That morning Hela found him sitting in what looked suspiciously like the dining hall of Hogwarts castle – although the toaster and coffee machine were a nice addition – limp and rumpled with huge bags under his eyes. She faltered for a moment resisting the highly inappropriate urge to brush his hair back from his forehead and kiss away the exhausted frown there. Instead she took refuge in her usual snark...

"You look like death"

Harry dragged his face out of his coffee mug with obvious reluctance and quirked an eyebrow. "You should know..."

Hela busied herself with the coffee machine, pushing a second mug over to Harry. "Here. You look like you need it." When she finally took her seat she met the smudged and bloodshot eyes over the table and winced.

"Seriously Harry. What's going on. What makes you think that you need to speak to Odin?"

He shook his head wordlessly, before taking another swig of coffee, wincing in surprise when he realised it was too hot... "Did I just heat this up?"

Hela smiled and shook her head. "I made you a fresh cup – remember?"

Harry shook his head slightly, frowned then smiled vaguely. "Oh yes of course. Thank you"

"Harry"

"Harry!"

His head jerked up to look at her, confused.

"Odin? Why Odin?"

He shook his head. "Honestly. I'm not sure. It's just that over the years I've learned the value of relying on my instincts, and right now all my instincts tell me that I need to speak to him. Gods know there are enough things that I would like to say to him.."

Hela shook her head. "He's going to freak out just seeing you. Your resemblance to my father is striking you know. She reached forward to push his head out of his coffee once again. "Alright. You win. Tomorrow we will go back and you can talk to him. But in the meantime, promise me one thing..."

"Go on"

"Really, seriously you look like shit. Go and see if you can get a bit more sleep – preferably without rearranging my house again..."

She had risen to collect their coffee mugs, and was just behind him as he stood up, without his usual grace, forgetting that he was sitting at a Hogwarts bench, not a chair. The bench tilted, and he lurched backwards crashing into Hela, knocking her backwards. With the lightning fast reflexes that had made him one of Hogwarts finest seekers Harry caught her, pulling him against him. For frozen moment in time they hung suspended, only a hairsbreadth between them.

Hela found herself unable to breath, watching her hand reaching up to touch the shadow of stubble on his jaw... "Harry..." Even her voice – barely a whisper - didn't sound like hers, through the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.

A strong hand caught her wrist firmly, setting her back on her feet, a little away from him. "No Hela. I'm sorry, but... no."

"But..."

"Hela. I love her. I know that now. Even if she doesn't love me, that wouldn't make this right. The fact that my Miss Right isn't here, and may... may not even feel the same way, doesn't give me the right to take advantage... of you... of this situation."

Hela took a deep, ragged breath, resisting the temptation to scream with frustration and wounded pride, and nodded tightly. "I'm going to go out for a while now. But I'll be back by tomorrow morning. In the meantime..."

He nodded, but his eyes were dark, and his tension was visible in the set of his jaw.

"I know. Try to get some more sleep."

ooo0ooo

Odin looked better on Harry's second visit. He was still chained, but he was sitting up against the wall of his cell, rather than pinned to the floor. When Harry walked in however, his face paled and slackened momentarily, in shock.

"Loki?"

Harry smiled and shook his head. "No Sir. My name is Harry Potter. I am a mortal descendent of Loki's from 600 years ago or thereabouts. It appears that I am a throwback – both physically and magically. The likeness has been commented on before"

Odin frowned. "You are a mage – from Midgard? I was not aware that such creatures existed"

Harry raised an eyebrow at being described as a creature, before he continued. "I can assure you Sir, that there has been a thriving magical community living on Midgard for as far back as the most ancient records. Busy, thriving, and completely hidden even from Heimdall and your ravens."

"That is not possible. Heimdall sees all."

Harry smiled, not altogether pleasantly. "Really? Would you mind explaining to me where Loki was hidden after his brother rescued him from your clutches?"

Odin was silent. "I had always assumed that Heimdall had betrayed me, at the request of my son, or my Queen. I was not altogether myself at that time."

Harry snorted. "You can say that again. No. Thor brought Loki to an old friend. To a powerfully magical place, where he knew he would be protected and find healing."

Odin's voice was flat and despairing. "My son is far beyond mere mortal help."

Without waiting for an invitation, Harry dropped to the floor, crossing his legs comfortably. "Tell me about Loki. And for once in your life try to be honest. There is no advantage to you now in lying or protecting your, or Asgard's reputation. Remember. I know the worst of you Odin Borsson. And there is a young lady out there who would be happy to let you rot alone in this cell until Ragnorok. Right now I am the best chance you have." Harry leaned back against the wall and studied the ceiling for a moment. "So tell me... Did you always hate him, or is that something recent?"

"You do not dress like a mortal. And you know far more of the Golden City than you have any right to. My instincts tell me that you are not even one of the spirits of this place come to torment me. Who _are_ you – Harry Potter?"

"I will tell you, although I will create more questions than I answers. I am, indeed, Harry Potter. Wizard of Midgard – The Boy Who Lived, Saviour of the Wizarding Word and the Master of Death. But I am also Harry of Asgard, blood brother to Thor and Loki. At present though, I am the temporary guest of Hela, although my body resides in state in your palace Odin awaiting my return. Now I have answered your question. Tell me of Loki"

Odin's shoulders sagged, and he too leaned back against the cell wall. "I have thought much of my son since I came to this place. Especially since you..." he looked up at Harry "...I am assuming it was you... ended my torment beneath the serpent I have had a great deal of time to think.

I admit that, when I found Loki in the wastes of Jotunheim, I was moved by pity, but also by the thought I what I might one achieve with him. I already knew from his markings who he was."

"Laufey's son. A younger son admittedly, but a potential puppet King for you. A way to finally control your ancient enemy."

Odin nodded reluctantly. "I had not originally thought to raise him as my son. My intention had been to have him raised by a nurse within the household. But Frigga had other intentions."

"From the moment she saw him he was hers."

"He was hers, just as Thor was mine. And so he became Thor's brother, and we dared to hope that the physical change had been permanent, since he showed no further signs of his birth."

"So you said nothing. Even though it must have been obvious from very early on that he and Thor were very different."

Odin shook his head. "You asked me whether I hated him from the beginning. The answer to that question is no. I did not hate him as an infant. But as a child he was – he was different from Thor. More delicate in many ways. Loving, but also needing of love in a way that Thor had never been. I did not understand him, even then."

Harry closed his eyes, seeing so clearly two little boys before him. The elder, solid, blonde, self reliant Thor, so like his father in every way. Simple, uncomplicated. And beside him and always a couple of steps behind, Loki, smaller, physically weaker. Intelligent and intuitive. Perhaps picking up his father's ambivalence even then, and reacting to it.

"Then when he was far too young, his magic began to develop. No one on Asgard questioned it. I have powers that I control via Gungnir, and Frigga is known to be powerful in her own right. She and Loki – already close – bonded further, became inseparable. I feared she would smother him. I did my best to toughen him up."

Harry laughed bitterly. "I came here today expecting some dark tale of sorcery and magic. But all I have found so far is a case of really shitty parenting. The kind I could find in any Midgardian city. He was _desperate_ for your approval – did you know that. All he wanted was for you to stop trying to turn him into Thor mark II and try to love and understand him for what he was rather than what you wanted him to be."

"But I couldn't allow that..." for once Odin's face was a mask of anguish. "As he grew older it became obvious that – even though he _looked_ like an Aesir, he was not. His magic was different from his mothers, from mine, more chaotic, more tied to his emotions. When he was young he would seek attention by telling stories, playing tricks on people. But as he grew older it appeared that he could detect falsehood, deception in others. Aware that others thought of him as weak – effeminate, he retaliated, his tricks became more dangerous, more spiteful. I punished him. It made no difference so I punished him harder, punished him publically. Then there was that incident with Sif."

Harry nodded. "Thor told me of that. It appeared that no-one came out of that story very well, but Loki was the only one punished. And by the way – getting one son to pin the other to the floor while they sew his mouth shut. That is not parenting. That is sadism. And incidentally, how effective _was_ that punishment?"

"It made him worse. He shut down, closed himself off, for centuries it seemed. Eventually he and Thor appeared to make it up – but how much of that was truth and how much deception I have never known."

"So no, it didn't stop him, it just made him even more out of control – even more isolated. Then there was Thor's so called coronation. Seriously. Even Thor admits that he was nowhere near ready to rule. You're the so-called all-seeing, all-knowing Allfather. How were you so blind?"

Odin rubbed a hand through his matted grey hair. "I badly wanted him to be ready. I hoped that giving him the throne, with Loki by his side, they would balance each other out. As though Thor would ever listen to his brother. But Loki was right. He came to me once. Begged me to reconsider, to give Thor more time."

"But you ignored him"

"I believed him to be jealous of his brother, wanting the throne for himself. I was wrong and he was right."

"And then things really went to pieces when Loki found out the truth. With Thor banished and you taking a nap – great timing by the way – you didn't even handle that properly." When Odin appeared to be about to protest Harry continued. "No. Given that one son ended up trying to kill his brother before attempting to kill himself, Odin I think we can take that as a given. Just answer me one more question"

Odin looked up and nodded.

"Given that you have now been beneath the mouth of the serpent yourself. Would you do it again. Would you send Loki to the cave?"

Odin crumpled. "I should never have done it at all. I destroyed my son. I cannot believe that he would ever recover from what I did in my rage and madness that day. In that hour I destroyed my youngest son, my relationship with my eldest son and my Queen." Odin was openly weeping now, scrubbing at his one good eye with a grubby hand.

Harry looked at the broken man before him, and a little of his anger abated.

"Would you like to know what happened?"

Odin looked doubtfully up, face still wet.

"I don't know"

"Loki _did_ recover. He didn't come back to Asgard until after your death, and when he did, he brought a girl – a witch - back with him. My best friend, and his healer and lover for the past two years. The woman that rebuilt him body, mind and heart."

Odin tipped his head back against the wall. " _Another_ mortal. What is it about your mortal women and my sons?"

"Thor married Jane Foster, who is now a greatly loved Queen herself. They have twin sons Bjarte and Brandt."

Odin's brow drew downward. "There is a _mortal_ on the throne of Asgard?"

Harry shrugged. "Well strictly speaking, no. They were given apples at their respective weddings, so neither of them are still mortal"

Odin's one good eye nearly fell from its socket. " _They?_ You are never telling me that Loki is _married?"_

"They were married first. Hermione will have given birth to their first child by now. Loki is Thor's Lord Chancellor and Mage, a politician, strategist and diplomat without equal. The family is contented and united without you to cause dissent. And Frigga..."

"What of my wife?"

"Frigga is happy. She is no longer Queen. She lives comfortably in retirement, enjoying time with her friends, her daughters and her grandchildren. She lives the life that she should have lived with you. Except that it was only your death that allowed it to happen at all."

Seeing Odin's expression, Harry rose. "I will leave you to think on all that we have talked about today. But I will revisit again, so that we can talk further if needs be."

Odin said nothing, lost in thought.

Harry slipped silently out of the door, warding it behind him, to find Hela, waiting by the horses, a Midgardian novel in hand and a questioning look in her eyes.

"Are you finished?"

Harry tightened his mount's girth before mounting with a curt nod. "For now. But I will need to come back. He has a lot to think about and may have questions." As he turned his horse's head back towards the gateway, he paused for a moment, the hair prickling warningly on the back of his neck. Turning, he scanned the rocks below for whatever or whoever was watching him, drawing in his breath sharply as an arrogant figure stepped from the shadows, pushing the hood back from their face.

"Son of a ..." Harry's horse shied nervously as his hand tightened convulsively on the reigns. "Should he even be allowed up here?"

Hela pulled up alongside him, turning abruptly in the saddle. "Who...? No. No he shouldn't. I'll look into that when I get back. We should hurry."

"Can't we get down to him?"

Hela shook her head. "Our magic is not always reliable down here. You could end up next to him, or you could end up scattered across the entire realm. And to get down there on foot or on horseback we would have to be on the other side of the valley. I have men that will secure him. He cannot pass through the arch."

Pushing their mounts homeward at a brisk canter, Harry couldn't help but wonder firstly, how the hell Lucius Malfoy had managed to reach that level of the Dark Realms, when he should have still been confined to the depths, and secondly, what he was planning now he was out.

However you looked at it, it was not a pleasant thought.

ooo0ooo

 _For what felt like a very long time, Harry was confined to the house at Hela's request. Hela's agents had returned to the Dark Realms to recapture Malfoy, but to their consternation there was no sign of him. There was no sign of how he had broken the magical bonds that had confined him, or how he had passed the apparently impenetrable wards on the archway. No one had seen him leave his place, and only Harry and Hela had seen him since..._

* * *

 _This was originally going to be one chapter, but when it came in at a monstrous 6.5k words it became two...To be continued._


	23. Chapter 23

**_Of Father's Sons and Brothers - Part Three._**

Harry sighed wearily, pushing his hair back off his face. His head was pounding and his eyes were refusing to focus any more. The beaten silver basin of water he had been using for scrying ever since Malfoy's disappearance generally gave by far the best results, but the glare was beginning to really get to him. The fact that he hadn't had a sniff of Malfoy's magical signature really wasn't helping either.

Light footsteps behind him heralded Hela's presence. "No luck?"

Harry sighed and shook his head, accepting the steaming mug of coffee with a wan smile of thanks. "I should not be hiding here. It is me he is after."

Hela sat opposite, stirring the water in the bowl with an idle finger. "That may be so cousin, but the fact remains that until you leave here to return to Asgard you remain vulnerable. And I would not answer to my father, or to my uncle should anything befall you. So for my sake, you will stay safely within doors until this creature is under lock and key once more."

Harry took a cautious sip of coffee, closing his eyes briefly in appreciation. "This is really good, thank you." He noted that she had once more called him cousin, something that had become more frequent since the uncomfortable moment in the kitchen. He realised that she was still speaking...

"... after all, you are so close now, it would be a shame for anything to go wrong."

Harry's gaze flew up from the surface of the bowl. "I'm sorry... I was... so close to what?"

Hela smiled, a little puzzled. "To the end of your time here. The time for your return draws close."

Harry sat down with a sudden graceless lurch, his eyes wide. "Home – to Asgard. But I ... I must have years left. I haven't..."

"Breath Harry. Did I not tell you that time here passes differently. Even Midgard has tales of children stolen by the fairies, who spend one night away, only to find on their return that a hundred years have passed. Time between the realms passes differently, but especially here." A shadow of sadness crossed her face. "I shall miss you cousin, for it is often lonely here."

"But you are not tied to this place are you? Come to Asgard, spend time with your family."

Hela huffed, puffing a stray strand of black hair out of her eyes. Today she was dressed in Aesir fashion, black and silver leather, with a short coat of the bottle green so favoured by her father. "But who will keep order here in my place? I have agents who will maintain order on my behalf, but they need a leader, a figurehead."

Harry thought carefully. An idea was forming in his mind, but it was going to take some selling. There would be time to discuss this again later, when he had concluded his conversations with Odin, and the shadow of Malfoy had been lifted. On that subject, he leaned forward, catching Hela's eye.

"Malfoy"

Hela looked up. "We _will_ find him"

"I've been thinking about something you said. About the darkness within us, and the parts of the realm which absorb that energy like a sponge."

She frowned, taking a thoughtful sip of coffee. "Go on..."

Harry struggled to put into words the thoughts that were still forming in his head. "The darkest and most evil souls are to be found in the lowest reaches of your realm – yes?" Seeing her brief nod of agreement he continued. "... so the saturation of that dark energy must be greatest in those areas." Harry leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table, his hands describing diagrams on the table top. "We know that Malfoy's powers were stripped when he was sent there. What if he managed to find a way to tap into that energy. To use it to regain his magic."

"So why can't we track him?"

Harry struck his forehead in frustration. "It's impossible - the dark energy is masking his magical signature. Given the saturation in random areas all over the realm, there's no way we can pin it down. There's only one way we can do this, I have to let him find me."

Hela shook her head. "No Harry, there has to be another way. This man is too dangerous"

"Do you think I don't know that Hela? I have known this man since I was a child. He was one of the demons of my nightmares as I grew up, and his son was my greatest enemy at school." His face tightened suddenly. "We outgrew that though. If so much time has truly passed, Draco may even be here now."

Hela shook her head. "He is not here. There are other places he may have gone if he has passed, although you must remember that your kind are longer lived than most mortals. It is possible that he still lives"

"We were friends as men – Draco and I. Once Voldemort was gone, and he was free of his father. It took a long time for me to come to see Draco as his victim not his sidekick. But I have no doubt. It's me Malfoy wants. I put him here, ultimately. I ruined his life. Now he wants revenge."

"And what? You intend to give it to him?"

Harry smiled. "Believe me, I'm not ready to take up permanent residence here yet. Tomorrow, you and I ride out. I finish my conversation with your grandfather, and if we are very lucky, we lure out your fugitive at the same time." Seeing Hela still looking mulish, he raised an eyebrow. "Hela – we have to catch this guy or we're both going to be looking over our shoulders for the rest of eternity." Pushing the bowl to one side, he rose with a new energy.

"We ride out tomorrow morning."

ooo0ooo

Their journey to Odin's cell had been uneventful, although Harry had half expected as much. Unlike their previous trips, Harry was taking no chances, wearing armour, enhanced with protective spells that he and Hela had cast together, and carrying his sword concealed beneath his cloak. His wand was likewise concealed in a vambrace holster, similar to the one Loki had designed for Hermione. Hela's eyes had widened as he came down the stairs, and he was uncomfortably aware of her glance sliding towards him more often than usual. Was it strange, he wondered, that she should harbour such evident feelings for someone that bore such a close resemblance to her father? Shrugging mentally, he recollected that Loki was probably the only man in her life that had been consistent in his love and loyalty to her. In the past Loki had not been an ideal father, but he was the best she had.

Tethering their horses outside the cell, Harry looked around at the desolate landscape with some concern. "I think you need to come in. I don't like the idea of leaving you out here"

Hela shook her head. "I'll be fine. As you say, it's you he wants – and if he sees me sitting here, he'll know that you're in there."

Harry wasn't entirely sure about this logic, but looking at the stubborn expression on Hela's face he decided not to push, turning instead to open the cell door.

And froze.

"Hela"

She was at his shoulder in a moment. "What in the..." She pushed passed Harry, storming furiously into the cell to confront her grandfather.

Who was standing, unchained and a little bewildered in the middle of the room.

"How did you escape from those chains? It isn't possible."

Odin was silent – spellbound, taking in the two figures before him – both heartbreakingly alike in their resemblance to the son he had lost. He held his un-manacled wrists out for inspection.

"I do not know how it happened. Only that after Harry left me I spent a very long time considering all that he had told me. At first I was angry with him, with Loki and with Thor for betraying me – for disobeying me. But slowly I came to realise that I lay at the heart of all that had befallen me, my realm..." he paused for a moment. "...my son".

"My father"

He nodded. "The following morning I awoke to find myself unchained. Hela - while I was thinking about your father, I also did a great deal of thinking about you. I know that you have nothing to say to me. Nothing that I would find very pleasant hearing anyway, but there are things that I need to say to you." He gestured to the floor. "I am afraid I do not have a seat to offer a lady"

Hela refused to meet his eye. "According to you, I am no lady, no Princess of Asgard, but a monster, just like my father."

"I was wrong" The words hung in the room like a physical presence. Slowly Hela's eyes lifted from the dagger in her boot, to meet her grandfather's.

"I was wrong. A stubborn, stupid old man, unable to see all the good in front of me. Obsessed with my own power, with my foolish narrow measurement of perfection, my determination to prevent change in my realm at all costs. And what happened? My realm became stagnant, in-bred and insular, while within my Palace, my family tore itself apart. I almost destroyed one son, and turned the other into a flashy thoughtless braggart. That they have become the men that they are is through no act of mine."

He stepped forward, and held out a hand to Hela, who took it after a moment's consideration. One gnarled, calloused hand came up to touch her cheek briefly, and she closed her eyes involuntarily leaning into it, biting her lip.

"Hela. Very many years ago, when you were just a babe my son reminded me that a grandfather has but one role. To love and indulge his grandchildren, completely and unconditionally, to the despair of their parents. That was my role with you, and I failed you utterly and completely."

When she finally replied, Hela's voice was little more than a whisper. "You should have held me on your knee and told me tales of your adventures, of stars and dragons and the handsome princes that would one day come to claim my hand and how you would frighten them all away if I wished it. Instead you first ignored me, then chained me in this place as surely as I did you."

Odin looked down at his wrists once more, then back up at his granddaughter, rubbing hers absently. "Maybe both our shackles are falling today. Hela – child. It is far too late to say this, but I am so very, very sorry. For not trusting you to use your powers wisely. For focussing only on your faults – on your similarities to your father that I found so inexplicable and frustrating. For putting Asgard beyond the most precious things in my life. For all of this and much, more I am so very, very sorry."

Standing to one side, leaning against the wall, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, Harry smiled seeing Hela – weeping unchecked, as she allowed herself to be drawn into her Grandfather's arms for the first time in her very long memory. Odin's one good eye, also wet with tears, met Harry's over Hela's shoulder and he smiled.

He said nothing, but the message was clear nonetheless.

 _Thank you._

ooo0ooo

By the time they were ready to leave the Dark Realm the sun was setting. The limited visibility made Harry nervous as he scanned the shadowy rock formations, wand in hand. Hela was busy arguing with Odin over whether or not he was coming with them.

"Hela I am quite content to stay here for now. You return home with Harry, and return for me when you are ready"

Hela shook her head, a decisive tilt to her chin. "Oh no Grandfather. It was one thing to leave you in this place when I hated you, but I will not do so now. You must take my horse. Harry's will carry us both with no difficulty."

Personally Harry wasn't certain that putting he and Hela in such close physical proximity was such a good thing under the circumstances, but there wasn't much he could say to deter her, so he reached a reluctant hand down to pull her up behind him, her arms tight around his waist. "Come on Sir Lancelot" he could hear her smirk, even though he couldn't see it "... time to go home."

Taking one final, nervous glance at the shadowy rocks behind, Harry urged his mount forward, leading them home.

Malfoy – it appeared, was not taking the bait.

Admittedly Harry had always found this realm creepy at night, and preferred to ensure that he was safely within doors, but even by normal standards the ride home set every one of Harry's nerves on edge. When they finally reached the safety of Hela's house he heaved a sigh of relief, sagging momentarily against the saddle.

"Are you alright Harry." Hela rested a hand on his arm. "You look exhausted."

Harry smiled wanly. "I hate that feeling of waiting for something to happen. If he's going to make a move I wish he'd just hurry up and do something. The waiting is driving me crazy." He looked over the saddle at Odin, who was standing on the steps looking weary and a little lost. "I think you'd better get your Grandfather inside. He looks exhausted."

Hela nodded. "Would you mind seeing to the horses? I ought to..."

"No problem" Taking the reins from her, Harry headed for the stables. Ever since he had learned to ride, he had always loved simply being around horses. The warm fragrant atmosphere of the stable itself, the patient undemanding company of the horses, each with a personality and quirks of their own. He smiled remembering Krellr – Loki's mischievous chestnut had a habit of waiting until his master was momentarily distracted before dropping a damp whiskery nose into his ear and blowing hard. No matter how many times he did it, it always caught Loki unawares and was the source of constant amusement to his family. Hela's horse whickered softly in appreciation as Harry rubbed her down while she nosed at a rack of hay.

"The man you carried today used to be the Lord of the Nine Realms you know. A seriously important guy. But he's got to be even more important now you know. He's just got to be Hela's Grandfather again for the first time ever." He rubbed the mare affectionately between the ears. "We did a good day's work today girl."

"What a pity it will be your last good deed – _Potter"_

Harry froze, closing his eyes. He'd been careless. Very, very careless. Now he'd been caught. Alone. This was not good.

" _Malfoy"_

Harry turned, slowly. He hadn't changed a bit, he thought. Still dressed from head to foot in black, still the same long white blonde hair, and pretentious silver headed cane, still the same arrogant, up his own arse expression. Except his eyes. The normally pale silver blue eyes were jet black, soulless.

"This isn't you Malfoy. Look at you. You're stuffed to the gills with dark power."

The thin lips sneered as he slowly drew his wand from within the cane. "I've always been full of dark magic you little fool, but just like Dumbledore you have to insist on seeing good in everyone."

Harry shook his head, hoping he looked more confident than he felt under the circumstances. "Oh there's no real good in you Malfoy. You are arrogant, self serving and weak, but you're not evil. Your son is by far the better man, only you were too blind to see it."

Malfoy's face tightened further and the wand in his hand shook in a way that made Harry distinctly nervous. Carefully lowering his hands so as to not startle Malfoy further, he took advantage of a small amount of cover from the shoulder of the mare to summon his wand silently from its holster. His sword, unfortunately, was on his left hip, and consequently in full view.

" _Don't_ mention that mewling little milksop to me! He has disgraced his family and his heritage, by forming an... an _alliance_ with that common, tattooed _Weasley. I have no son."_

Harry smiled lazily. "Interesting that Malfoy. The last time I spoke to Draco he said much the same about you – minus the tattoos of course. These days I think you are considered by far the greater embarrassment." Harry stepped sharply to one side to avoid a bolt of pitch black energy from his opponent's wand. Thoroughly startled the mare threw up her head and shied across the stable shoes striking sparks on the floor. "Face it Lucius. He has a family in the Weasleys, a job that he excels at. He is successful, loved, happy and respected. He doesn't need you, your name, your influence or even your family money. Did you know he used it to fund a scholarship to help muggle born witches and wizards that need help to buy equipment – including the profits from the sale of the Manor and its contents? I haven't seen him for a while, but the last I heard he and Charlie were planning to marry. So he may not even be Draco Malfoy anymore. He may be Draco Weasley by now."

It worked. Lucius Malfoy finally snapped, hurling himself forward with a howl of rage inky darkness billowing from both hands. The darkness wrapped itself around Harry, blinding him, suffocating him... his wand fell from his hand as his magic twisted, revolted - choking, blocked and helpless. To his right, the mare screamed and reared, one steel shod foot catching him on the side of the head. Agony as bright and searing as Thor's lightning bolt shot through Harry's skull, sending him reeling. Somewhere in the distance he could hear voices and running feet, but it made little sense as he struggled under the twin assault of physical pain and dark energy

Training... thought Harry later, is a great thing. Practicing with Dalan, over and over again, bored out of his mind and muscles screaming in protest, until movement, and action became mere muscle memory. Without conscious thought his hand went to his sword hilt, just managing to bring the bright blade down on Malfoy's wand – smashing it to matchwood before he buckled to the floor. Dimly, before the blackness enveloped him completely he heard a roar of anger that sounded like Odin and a crack of power. Then he knew no more.

ooo0ooo

" _Harry. Can you hear me Harry?"_

 _Someone was calling him... and it sounded important._ His head hurt like nothing he'd ever known, thought Harry, carefully not opening his eyes knowing it would only lead to further pain. He was lying in bed that was certain, but which one was a bloody good question. It was, he thought, a question for another day. With a sigh he slipped back into oblivion.

ooo0ooo

When Harry awoke again, the pain in his head had reduced to the extent that he was able to cautiously open his eyes. The room was in darkness, just a candle burning low on a side table. In an armchair was a bulky silver haired figure, that looked up as he stirred.

"Ah finally – you're awake. You've been asleep for a long time and my granddaughter has been frantic with worry for you, you know?" The former Allfather of Asgard, dressed in a flamboyantly embroidered dressing gown, perched informally on the side of his bed. "To add to her concern, your time here is up, but she would not send you back in the state you were in. Both of my sons would have been most displeased. But there was also the danger that if you did not return at the appointed time you may become stuck here against your will regardless."

Harry frowned, trying to marshal his memories. "Malfoy... what happened to him?"

Odin smiled under his beard – he looked cleaner and tidier than the last time he had seen him thought Harry – "Don't you worry about him. We have released the power which possessed him and his magic has been stripped once more. He is now firmly chained in my old cell, and seeing that the enchantment on it appears to release its occupant only when they are deemed to be worthy, I suspect he will be there for a very long time yet. You and Hela are safe. Between us, she and I will work to dissipate some of the pockets of dark energy that caused this trouble in the first place"

"Good". Harry sank into his pillows, exhausted once more... "that's good"

"You did very well." Odin's hand gripped his shoulder. "And now the time has come to send you home. Don't you worry about my granddaughter, you will see her again very soon. Now I am here to help her, she will be able to spend more of her time among the living. It appears that you have been busy putting things right Harry Potter... and I am grateful"

Harry chuckled a little weakly. "Apparently I have a thing for saving people. It's been mentioned before... I'm glad to have helped. Tell Hela... tell her thank you."

"I will." Odin's hands began to glow and Harry felt unconsciousness take him again.

" _Goodbye Harry. Tell my sons. Tell Loki ..."_

* * *

 _This is the final story in this collection, I hope you liked it - it put up a real fight... Both Harry and Sif's stories will conclude in my Christmas three shot "A Tale of Three Christmases"_

 _With many thanks. Merrick x_


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